


Are You Mine?

by PoetHrotsvitha



Series: Very Good Bad Thing [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: All The Tropes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Consensual Underage Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, I'm Sorry, Light Dom/sub, Porn With Plot, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Utter trash, the twins are 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:50:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 22
Words: 54,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoetHrotsvitha/pseuds/PoetHrotsvitha
Summary: Fryecest Modern AU. Underage warning for 17. A plot somehow snuck into this but it's still pretty much straight smut.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% self-indulgent, will be quite dark, and is utterly filthy. It goes 0-100 pretty much immediately. Do these things put you off? Stop reading now! 
> 
> Still with me? Ok, we're all going to hell.

Jacob’s mobile buzzed on his bedside table. He bounced it in hands for a few moments before he picked up, staring at Evie’s name on the caller ID.

“’Lo?”

“Jacob, hi, Father’s forgotten about me again. Can you come pick me up?”

Ugh. “Can't you just take a bus?”

“Yes, but it would take too long. I want to shower before ballet. Please?”

He bit back a sigh. This was a bad idea. “Fine. Give me fifteen.”

Jacob went to the bog-standard comprehensive around the corner, but that hadn't been good enough for Evie and her ambition. No, she had to take the exams and end up at one of the posh grammar schools- which, of course, was all the bloody way across town.

The air was brisk as he rode over, tucked into his jacket and helmet. It was fairly typical these days for Father to forget to be somewhere. He was still hidden in his office at the university and reeling from Mother up and disappearing; to be honest, they all were.

When he pulled up, she was standing out by the curb and waiting. He felt his mouth go a little dry as he took in the blazer and skirt, the pert ponytail. Down, boy.

He motioned her over and she climbed onto the back, tucking herself flush against him and wrapping her arms around his stomach. Even through the jacket, he felt like he was burning where they were pressed together; when he glanced down, he got an eyeful of thigh where her skirt had ridden up and immediately had to snap his eyes forward. If they didn't get moving quickly, passersby were about to get an eyeful of the tent in his pants.

This had been _such_ a bad idea.

She shot him a thumbs up and he kicked the engine into a roar, navigating back out onto the streets.  

\---

Evie felt like she was going to combust by the time they reached the house.

Between her face against Jacob's back, feeling the muscles shift every time he moved his arm, the smell of him- leather, something vaguely earthy, and sandalwood- and the vibrations of the motorcycle seat itself, she was terrified that she was going to leave some dampness behind when she stood.

He parked in front of the house and they walked silently through the small garden. She stood on the stoop and waited as he dug around for the key, doing her best not to squirm. All she had to do was get inside and upstairs to her room- then she could rub one out and desperately pretend the whole time that she wasn't thinking about her brother.

He found the keys and promptly dropped them, cursing as they bounced towards to her feet.

She leaned down. “Here, I got it—”

Bent over, she looked up and found herself face to face with an eyeful of what was obviously an incredible erection straining in the fabric of his pants.

There was the world’s most awkward silence.

"Uh,” he said, "oh my God, uh—”

She straightened but barely heard him. Dear God, it was _big_. Was that average? It couldn't be.

He snatched the key and immediately fumbled with the door, throwing it open and charging through to the kitchen. She took her shoes off slowly, head spinning. Did that actually just happen? Was it- was it for her?

Creeping through to the kitchen, she leaned in and found Jacob at the table with his head in his hands. She took a few steps towards him. “Jacob…”

“I'm so sorry,” he mumbled. “Fucking embarrassing, Jesus Christ.”

“Is it… Was that- why…”

“Well, you know, I'm a young bloke still.” He shot her a forced grin. “Plus I _really_ love that bike, so.”

She felt like her face was bright red. Her heart was going a million miles an hour and she opened her mouth but couldn't feel an answer coming.

Any second now, she was sure, his face was going to turn to horror as he recognized the emotion she was experiencing. Instead, his grin trailed off as they stared at each other, his hand curling into a tight fist on the table.

“Was it…” She licked her lips and tried again, barely believing that she was saying the words as they drifted into the world. “Was it for me?”

He made a choked noise. “What- I- no, of course not—”

But he was lying, she knew a lie from him at twenty paces in the dark. “It was for me.”

“Uh,” he managed, as she put her fingers to his cheek. His throat was working rapidly as he swallowed, and she was suddenly seized by the urge to lean down and run her tongue along the skin there, beginning to grow a maddeningly handsome sort of scruff.

Instead, she just stood and watched as one of his hands lifted very, very slowly, almost as if waiting for her to bolt. It got close to her knee and then drifted higher, fingers skimming as he worked up the inside of her thigh, never looking away from her eyes. A light sort of panting filled the room and with a jolt a horror she realized it was her; she stood stock still as his hand travelled higher still, up and up past the hem of her skirts before she felt a touch, ghost light, along the bottom of her panties where she was now desperately, horribly wet—

The front door thunked open. Their Father’s voice called from the entrance as he obviously spotted her shoes by the door – “oh God, Evie, I just realized I didn't pick you up, I'm so sorry. Darling, are you here?”

Jacob’s hand snatched back like he was burned and she staggered away from him, frantically finding her voice. “Here,” she called back, “in the kitchen.”

Father was in the room moments later. “I really am so sorry, Evie.”

“It's fine,” she choked out, unable to look either of them in the eye. “I'll be up in my room; I've got assignments to finish.”

\---

He and Father sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes before Jacob stuffed his hands in his pockets, abandoning the kitchen to go upstairs. Once alone, maybe he could try and understand what the hell had just happened.

It was like a fever dream, fantastic and unreal. She had been so damp that he could easily feel it through the fabric, her pupils blown as she stared at him with slightly opened lips.

He ought to just be relieved that she didn’t punch him right in the face, but instead he found himself wondering if- did that mean—

Fuck, this was bad.

Rubbing his face with a groan, he had made it most of the way to his room when he could've sworn that he heard someone say his name.

Backtracking a bit, he shuffled until he stopped at Evie’s door. And there it was again, faint but definite, a breathy whisper.

His hands were shaking now- this was surely a residual bit of leftover madness from what had just happened downstairs? But then- what if it wasn't madness, and what he _thought_ was happening was actually happening behind that door—

He had to know.

The door was cracked open, he realized now, the slightest bit of light coming through. Clearly it had crept ajar without her realizing. Pressing his fingers to the wood, he pushed it further just another fraction of an inch, enough to be able to see Evie lying on her bed, back arching as she moved, her hand between her _oh holy shit_.

The strangled noise was out of him before he could help it. She froze and snapped up, hands immediately flying to her sides, her eyes open wide. Her face was bright red and he could see now that some strands of her hair had pulled loose from her tight ponytail. “Did you- did you hear- this is not what you think—”

Quickly stepping in against his better judgement, he closed the door, heart in his throat. “It isn't? Because I know what it looked like.”

Her mouth was open as she stared, her breath coming out in little gasps. God, she looked so fucking hot, it wasn't right or fair and it was a cruel cosmic joke that they were related. So much daily energy had to go into ignoring her lithe form in tiny sleep shorts or that infuriating little uniform.

It was bad enough that he'd just stuck his hand up her skirt. It was _really_ bad that he desperately wanted to do it again.

When he reached the bed, he sat down next to her legs. In the same movement as before, he gently placed his fingertips at her knees and worked upwards, carefully watching her face. Her gaze, for its part, was glued to his hand. She didn't stop him; if anything, she parted her legs wider, making it easier for him to move upwards.

When he reached the seam of her knickers, she clamped her eyes shut and curled her fingers in the sheets, letting out a little gasp.

Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly so she had time to stop him if she wanted, he slid his fingers up until she suddenly shuddered under his touch.

“Show me,” he breathed. For a second he was sure that speaking out loud had ruined the moment, that she would now shove him away and scream at him for being a pervert. Instead, she kept her eyes closed and moved her hand to cover his, lightly pressing down on a small space near the apex of her thighs and motioning for him to make small circles.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He obeyed the movement and she started to shudder, quivering under his touch.

Jacob shook his head like his ears were waterlogged. This wasn't- he wasn't touching his sister’s knickers. They hadn't skipped kissing and cuddling and gone straight to him getting her off. He was _not_ so hard that it nearly hurt.

Her head was tossing from side to side now, her body desperate to move and to stay completely still at the same time. Had she ever done this with someone else before? The image drove an irrational stab of jealousy through him, the thought abhorrent.

The pants in the room were becoming faster and more high pitched, he realized, her neck arching backwards so her tits pushed towards him invitingly. She was desperately trying to be silent, clamping down on her lips, but little whimpers kept sneaking out past her gritted teeth.

He should slow down, backtrack, strip her down and kiss every solid inch of her-

With a tinny noise, her phone began to sing, some classical piece that trilled through the air. She froze and let out a little groan. “I have to get ready for ballet.”

Skip it, he wanted to say. Don't go. Instead, he tried to keep his voice neutral and normal, withdrawing his hand. “Right. I'll leave you be, then.”

He left the room in a hurry. He was terrified that if he didn't speed away, he would end up pinning her to the bed and devouring her until she couldn't even remember how to do a plié.

\---

Ballet was torturous. As if she could focus on anything after what had happened.

She tried. But she kept closing her eyes and seeing Jacob’s steady and lidded gaze, the burning focus of it sparking on her skin.

By the time she returned home, Father and Jacob had clearly already eaten. The light was on in Father’s study; in all likelihood, he would fall asleep there, and she would find him slumped over his notes in the morning.

Jacob could be anywhere. He was rarely home.

But when she padded up the stairs, she saw that the light was also on in his room, the soft thump of music carrying through the door.

She showered. She put on her sleep things. She brushed her teeth. She tried to think of anything else, of any _one_ else. Even so, she ended up standing outside of his door, hand hovering over the handle.

Right at the moment that she decided to leave and end this madness, the door swung open from the inside. “I can see your shadow,” Jacob said irritably. “Either come in or go away.”

So she went in, awkwardly hovering in the doorway as he stalked back to his bed, pulling his laptop back onto his lap.

He kept his eyes on the screen as she fidgeted. “Uh…” she started, “I mean, that is…”

It was too frightening.

She shook her head. “Never mind, it's nothing.”

The threshold was within reach when Jacob crossed the room behind her in three steps, reaching over her shoulder and holding the door shut. They froze like that for a moment, her facing the door, his presence looming behind her. Slowly, she turned to face him, and his eyes had taken on the same dark quality from before that made her heart race.

In a flash, he braced her against the door and pushed his hand down the front of her shorts, directly in contact with her skin. She snapped her hands to his shoulders and held on tightly as he found her clit, starting on the little motions she'd showed him earlier.

 _She'd_ showed him- oh God, that really happened, _this_ was really happening-

“Is this what you wanted? Why you came here?” His voice was husky and his breath hot on her shoulder as he worked, her toes twisting against the floor.

When she didn't answer, he grabbed her ass with his other hand and tucked her closer, pressing his hard-on to her thigh as he sped up his movements. “I said- is this what you wanted?”

The orgasm was shattering and quick when it suddenly ripped through her, bursting like a firework as she let out a shuddered “yes,” a scream but for the lack of air behind the sound.

He withdrew when she slumped against him on shaking knees. As she watched, he lifted his slick fingers to his lips and _sucked_.

Heart in her throat, she whirled and fled, shaking from head to toe. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm not sorry. (I am.)
> 
> Thanks to Ungarn Moc for listening to my rambling, and if you hate this, you can blame her for making it happen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is an insurmountable amount of garbage. It is my offering to you.

By the time he made it to the kitchen for tea and toast, still in his sleep shorts, Evie was completely ready for the day. How could he be related to a morning person?

“Mornin’,” he grunted, shoving some bread in the toaster.

“Good morning,” she replied faintly, voice quiet.

Well, this was awkward. Jacob’s whole night had been spent restlessly, roiling guilt mixed in with inappropriate dreams. Or maybe they were inappropriate daydreams. At some stage it became hard to tell.

All he knew was that the image of her coming was burned into his retinas. “Evie-”

“I have to go,” she said, clattering to her feet and grabbing her bag.

\---

“Overcrowding was rife during the industrial revolution as London became a larger urban centre, problems with crime and disease constantly plaguing the city as a whole…”

The words soared over Evie’s head as she sat, chin propped on her palm, staring out the window as rain lashed against the panes.

How were they going to recover from this? Did anyone recover from this? It wasn't as though she could go to someone for advice. Ring up the Samaritans and say _Hello, yes, I let my brother stick his hand down my pants, please tell me how we go back to normal._

The memory made her flush all over again, the sensation associated with far less shame than it ought to have been.

The rest of her classes were an equal blur. By the time she hit lunch, she was locked in a staring competition with her mobile, trying to decide her next step.

A voice cut through her daze. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes—” she looked up and found a concerned Mr. Green hovering over her table. “Oh, hello, Sir.”

He had a bundle of grading in his hands like always, perpetually looking kindly and a bit harried. “It's not like you to be distracted.”

“Yes, well, I’m having a bit of an off-day.”

He made a sympathetic noise before moving on. She waited until he was a few steps away to quickly screw up her courage, tap out “we need to talk”, and hit _send_.

She rather expected Jacob to take a while to get back to her. Instead, her mobile buzzed almost immediately.

_Pick u up again?_

That would do, she supposed. She let him know the time and tried to put it out of her mind.

\--- 

This whole thing was a nightmare. Jacob sleepwalked through the day, trying to settle his focus on something- _anything_ \- else. When he got Evie’s message, it was with a sinking feeling in his stomach; he’d be lucky if he got out of this with her willing to speak to him ever again.

The minutes crawled until he could go and get her.  

The light rain made his bike a bit less than ideal, but Father had taken the car, so he didn’t have a choice. It might have been his imagination, but he felt like she was clutching him even more tightly than yesterday as they drove home.

Shivering, they staggered into the house and went to get towels. Standing in the bathroom, he rubbed at his arms as she raked her hands through her hair. “So, you wanted to talk?”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I mean, about yesterday. Obviously.”

Side by side, they looked anywhere but at each other. “Right."

“I...” she swallowed. “I never should've gone to your room. I'm sorry.”

He wasn't sorry. “Don't be.”

She swivelled to look at him directly, eyes wide. “But- that was wrong. What we did was wrong.”

“Yes,” he agreed. Because what else could you say?

Mindlessly, he reached out and tucked a stray wet strand behind her ear. When his fingers touched her skin, she shivered, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. “And we can't do it again,” she whispered. Despite her words, he watched as she leaned towards him, so slowly that it was possible that she hadn't noticed herself moving.

“We can't,” he agreed, feeling himself compelled as he bent to meet her, a flower turning to face the sun.

There was a moment’s hesitation when they were a hair’s breadth away. If yesterday had been a fever dream, today was stone-cold reality in comparison. He could see every freckle, the beads of water on her skin, the flick of her tongue as she licked her lips.

Before he could watch this slip away, he shoved away his screaming moral compass and closed the last of the distance between them.

She tasted like mint and home, mouth soft and warm against his. He tentatively settled a hand on her waist and, like magic, she melted against him. He felt her arms reach for his shoulders, one of her hands settling on the back of his neck.

She pulled away to look at him with blown pupils. “This is wrong.”

He barely managed to nod and say “yes” before she pulled him back in, this time parting her lips with a tentative swipe of her tongue.

This was such a fucking terrible idea.  

But God, she smelled so good, something sort of soapy and floral that surrounded her in a little cloud. And when he caught her lower lip with a nip of his teeth, she whimpered beautifully.

He was sure that she had to be able to feel his erection pressing against her, but she didn't draw away.

He was already going to hell anyway, so it only felt right to try and see more of her. Shifting his kisses along her jawline and down her neck, he had managed to open the button on her blazer when she suddenly clapped a hand over his wrist.

When he pulled back, he saw why; the white shirt was completely transparent from the rain, the lines and fabric of a highly sensible looking beige bra front and centre. He blinked. In this new and strange and upside down world, apparently Evie could even make beige look sexy.

She stepped away and briskly wrapped her hair in her towel. “I should get out of these damp things,” she muttered, quickly disappearing down the hallway.

\---

Hiding in her room seemed like the best decision for the rest of the afternoon.

Evie dreaded seeing everyone when it was time to eat, but she needn't have worried. Jacob had supper in his room; Father, when she checked on him later, was asleep on his desk with an open bottle of brandy next to his head.

She was hesitating again. Surely, now, it was too late to pretend that things could be normal. But did that make it okay to- well, nothing would make this okay. Should she go ahead anyway?

The ache between her legs desperately wanted her to.

Rather than waiting at the threshold, she simply let herself into his room this time. Jacob looked up from his computer as she came in, his desk chair creaking as he shifted his weight. “You could knock,” he said, clicking his laptop shut.

She just crossed the floor to his bed and crawled under the covers. When he raised his eyebrows at her, she held the blankets up, beckoning him over.

“He's home,” Jacob said, his meaning obvious.

“He's passed out again,” she said quietly. She watched as his eyebrows went even higher, the implication settling in.  

When he stood, he first clicked off the light, plunging the room into darkness. There was a shuffle as she heard the sound of fabric rustling.

There was no possible way that he couldn’t hear her heart beating in her chest, it was so unbearably loud. “What are you doing?”

"Going to bed,” he said, voice low. “I sleep in my pants.”

The thought sent another thrill. “Oh—”

“You can leave, if you'd like.” His tone was pointed.

By way of answer, she just shuffled over in his bed to make a little more room.

When he slid in next to her, he was warm and solid, the two of them cramped a bit in the tight space. Relaxing, she let out a happy sigh right before he abruptly rolled on top of her, pressing down for a bruising kiss.

Their first kiss had been hesitant, she realized now, and this was anything but. It was hard and demanding, possessive and forceful- but most of all, it was _exciting_ , and it made that pulse between her legs grow in intensity.

He drew back and slid his thumb along the hem of her shirt. “So this is happening, then?”

It shouldn't be happening. This was all kinds of wrong. But the voice telling her to leave was absolutely drowned out by the _chorus_ that wanted him to keep touching her, to never stop touching her.

Hesitantly, she slid her hand down his front until she could run the heel of her palm along his length.

He hissed and tensed, his breath hot on her shoulder. It made her feel powerful to provoke such a reaction, a happy purring settling into the back of her mind.

And he had already done the equivalent, had he not? Sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander?

Heart in her throat, she slipped her fingers past the hem of his pants.

“Shit,” he breathed quietly, “shit, Evie, _shit_ —”

The tactile sense of it was new, with ridges and veins that she could lightly feel under her fingertips. It felt surprisingly hot and velvety in her hand, though she wasn’t sure what she had expected. Nothing, really; there had been some fumbled kisses with Alec before, but that was a far cry from this.

She tried a few experimental strokes and that provoked an actual groan from him, one which he quickly stifled into the pillow next to her head.

Quickening her pace, she worked until he was twitching his hips into her hand, panting breaths coming out as the muscles of his arms clenched on either side of her head.

Suddenly, he reached down and grabbed her wrist. He pushed up to look at her, his stare intense, almost frightening. “Are you going to avoid me again tomorrow?”

“What?”

“I don't want to do this if you're going to avoid me again.”

She blinked at him. They were both breathing like they'd just run up three flights of stairs, adrenaline and lust and fear spiking into a potent swirl of emotion. “And if I don't avoid you?”

He looked confused for a moment.

“If I don't avoid you tomorrow, do we keep going?”

His words were rasped. “Do you want to?” They shot a thrill straight down her spine, with all of their implied promise.

Oh, damn it all, she was doomed. “Yes,” she breathed, and when she started to move her hand again, he didn't try to stop her. It was intoxicating to watch his outline shiver over her as she worked, the dim light of the room obscuring him so that he could've been- well, he could've been anybody.

But he wasn't, of course.

“Fuck—” he sputtered, taking a shuddering breath as he wrenched her hand away, his hips moving in erratic thrusts. “Oh fuck, I'm- _fuck_ —” His spine bowed and she felt his knuckles brush her stomach as he held himself, seemingly trying to contain the mess.

Still, she felt a few drops of dampness slide over her exposed skin. She ought to have been disgusted. Any minute now, she was sure, the disgust would kick in…

But it didn't.

“Sorry,” he slurred, groping around for tissues. “Didn't want to get that on you.”

“It's ok,” she said quietly. Shuffling, she scooted to the end of the bed to leave.

“Where are you going?” He sounded confused.

“I can't stay here all night.”

“Yes, but what about you—”

“I can wait,” she said. The implication was terrifying. _I can wait for next time_.

There was a silence as he took that in. “Right,” he finally said. “See you tomorrow?” She could hear the question he was actually asking: are we still speaking?

“Yes,” she agreed. “See you tomorrow.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit juuuust begins to get kinky this chapter. I'm already going to hell, so at this point it's go big or go home

When he awoke, he almost wondered if he had dreamed the whole episode. It seemed dreamlike. But the feeling of her hand wrapped around him was definitely a memory, a frantic and consuming memory that he couldn't stop replaying.

And she’d said she wanted to keep going. Like that was an offer he could turn down.

If it were up to him, they'd ‘keep going’ _right now_.

In the kitchen, he found her making eggs, neat and trim in her uniform. Fuck but he had a thing for those knee socks.

He wandered up behind her and put his chin on her shoulder. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she replied calmly.

“Where's Father?”

“Already gone.”

Jacob made a pleased humming noise and lifted his fingers to loosen the knot of her tie. Pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, he began to work on the buttons of her blouse, fumbling a bit with the fiddly things.

Her breath hitched. “I'm a little busy, here.”

“Don't mind me,” he murmured.

The bra was white today, he saw, with a bit of lace trim. It was nice, but he was more interested in what was underneath it, the swell of skin an enticing promise. He skimmed his fingers along the edges while he tried a little bite to her neck, and the resulting shiver seemed like a good sign.

In a quick movement, he yanked the cups down, exposing perky tits to the cold air of the kitchen. Her shiver turned to a shudder as he flicked his finger along a nipple, admiring how taut it was already.

“Eyes forward,” he mumbled, stepping away without warning. “You'll burn your eggs.”

He was putting bread in the toaster when he saw her hands move up to rearrange her clothes.

“Don't,” he said with a grin, “I like it that way.”

Most of him expected to have something thrown at him for that remark. The rest of him expected that she would just ignore him. After all, this was the same girl who once disabled his radio because his music was ‘too loud and interfering with her study’. Who snitched on him for opening their Christmas presents early and trying to rewrap them. Who, even now, had a habit of kicking him painfully in the shins when they fought for the last bit of milk in the house.

What he didn't expect was to hear a shaky sigh and for her arms to return to her sides.

 _Well_. That changed things a little. Who knew?

When she carried her plate to the table, he detected a slight tremor in her hands; as they sat across from each other, her eyes kept flickering to his, confirming that he was still watching her. Which he was, of course. Like he could focus on anything else with a pair of naked breasts across from him, he was only human. The more he stared, the more she squirmed. Fantastic.

He shifted his legs, trying to get comfortable with a raging hard-on. “Why haven't you done up your shirt?”

Fork halfway to her mouth, she paused, looking embarrassed and confused. “But- you said-”

Giving up on the toast, he stood and walked to her side of the table. “I did, but you don't make a habit of listening to me.”

Her face was turning pink. “Well- I mean, I-”

He leaned over and twisted her chair out so she was facing him; she practically dropped her fork and clamped her hands to the arm rests. God, those tits were gorgeous. “Do you like being on display?”

Eyes wide, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

He dropped to his knees and pushed her legs apart. “Because if so, I want to see more of you.” Gripping her hips, he yanked her forward until she was perched on the edge of the chair, precariously balanced with her legs stretched out. Covering her hands with his own, he moved them to her skirt, motioning for her to hold it up.

The knickers were white too, plain and cotton. So sensible. So Evie.

He was feathering kisses up her thigh when she spoke with a shaky voice. “I give an inch and you take a mile, huh?”

Rocking back on his heels, he looked up at her, flush and red, blush extending past her neck and all the way down to the tops of her breasts. He gave one a pinch and her toes curled beside him as she scrunched her face up. “I can stop?”

When she didn't say anything, he started to get up.

“No,” she breathed immediately, sounding a little panicked. “Don't.”

Slowly, slowly, he settled back down. The tile of the kitchen floor was starting to dig into his knees a bit, but he was unbelievably beyond caring. “Don't what?”

“Don't stop.”

God, yes. Leaning forward again, he skimmed kisses up her thighs- fuck, they were solid, that would be all the dancing- until he met the hem of her knickers. He could see a little damp spot of moisture, could practically smell her arousal. Fucking fuck. So it turned out that angry and confident in life didn't translate to in bed.

He could work with that. Oh yes, he could definitely work with that.

He earned a delicious and shocked gasp when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the fabric, forgoing subtlety for an open assault. The heat of her seeped through the thin fabric, the weave scratchy when he tentatively poked out with his tongue. He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, but it seemed to be working; when he looked back up, she was breathing shallowly, gazing at him with shaky wonder.

After a few more broad licks, he summoned his self-control and he stood.

She looked dismayed. “What?”

“It's time to go to school.” He gestured to the clock on the mantelpiece. “Can't make you late.”

She looked like she wanted to tell him that he could. “So…” she shifted. “Will you come get me again?”

“If you'd like.”

“I'm going to be later today, I have Latin club.”

Latin club. Jesus Christ, were they really twins? “Father will be home by then. I guess we’ll see what happens.”

He lifted her to her feet and carefully rearranged her skirt, working her bra back into place and doing up the buttons of her blouse. Her breathing had almost gone back to normal now, her face composed; suddenly realizing that he hadn't actually given her a kiss this morning, he quickly pulled her in, letting her taste her own musk on his lips.

Finally, he gave her tie a brisk tug to tighten it back into place. He leaned next to her ear. “Don't change the knickers,” he breathed, “unless you want to go without for the day.”

He heard her quietly whisper, “I might skip Latin club.”

\---

She couldn't quite explain what had come over her. It was like she had gone into a fugue state, all of the usual reason and sensibility flown away in the face of his instructions.

Mere words shouldn't have been able to turn her legs to jelly, but they had done so over and over.

That first contact in the kitchen- God, had it really only been two days ago?- had opened the floodgates to feelings that she didn't even know she had. There had been so many nights of working herself into the ground, of doing her exercises until she was exhausted, all so she could not think about her brother, _not_ fantasize about him holding her down with those strong arms, _not_ dream about him whispering filthy things in her ear.

Her mind kept wandering back to his intense gaze, the press of his lips through the fabric, the terrible and wonderful burning in her hips-…

Mr. Green had to ask her about Heathcliff’s motivations twice before she looked up and realized that the whole class was staring at her.

Latin club could definitely wait.

She texted him a time and found him waiting after school, leaning next to his bike and twirling his keys in his hand.

When she went to get on, he reached into his backpack and tossed her a helmet.

She frowned down at it. “You got me my own helmet?” Given that the most she ever did was a ten minute slow ride across town on the back, they'd never bothered.

“Have the feeling that we're going to be doing a lot more of this,” he said, taking the handles.

The words sent a shot of heat straight to her core.

Once home, she babbled something about needing a shower and practically fled up the stairs. Under the hot water, she let the soapy suds wash over her as she tried to clear her mind, tried to promise herself that she wouldn't turn to putty if he asked. I am not preparing for him, she thought, repeating the phrase like a mantra as she scrubbed everything down carefully and shaved. I am not preparing for him. I am not. I am not.

She pulled a soft cotton t-shirt on once she was dry, skipping the bra, and went with a pair of shorts. She even picked out a pair of pretty-ish knickers with lace. Not preparing for him. 

The steady thump of his boxing gloves could be heard as she went down the hall. Peeking into his room, she saw that he'd strung his punching bag up and was pummelling it with force, stripped down to his trousers. She'd been to plenty of his championships, but there was still something more intimate about just watching him alone, admiring the flex of his muscles as he savaged the bag.

She stepped into the room and closed the door. “Showing off?”

He immediately shucked off his gloves, and the look he gave her was almost irritable. “For some reason, I have a lot of pent up energy to work off.”

When he reached for her, she moved hesitantly, shuffling towards him until she could press her fingers to that stupid tattoo on his chest. Father had nearly had a conniption when he found out, but Jacob was belligerent, shrugging that he could hardly get rid of it now.

It was hot, but she would die before she admitted it.

His hands played with the hem of her shirt. “So I've been thinking.”

“Hm?”

“About this morning.”

So had she. “What about it? Other than the fact that we’re both going to hell-”

“I've been thinking about how you listened to me.”

The carpet was scratchy under her feet and the room was quiet, muffled sounds of street traffic and birds filtering through his window. “Don't read into it too much.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a few delicate kisses to her fingertips. But when he raised his gaze to look at her, his expression was anything but delicate. “On your knees,” he said, voice low.

There was that surge of heat again, like someone blowing on hot coals. “W-what?”

“On your knees,” he repeated, deadly calm, face inscrutable.

She couldn't account for it, but she almost fell over herself in her rush to comply, thudding to the floor. For a moment, they stared at each other, almost equally shocked.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

She tried to pout but he grabbed her chin, hooking a thumb in her mouth and grinning when she obediently curled her tongue along the flat of his finger.

“Bossy, bossy Evie,” he murmured, a bit breathless. “Who would've thought.”

“Shuddup,” she mumbled around his thumb.

“What, you're so in control elsewhere that you want someone else to tell you what to do for a bit? Such a stereotype.”

She felt a flash of irritation and went to pull away, but he pressed his thumb in deeper and reached around to wrap a fist in her hair. The tug along her scalp did strange things; her whole body immediately relaxed, mind going pleasantly empty.

"That's what I thought,” he agreed, grin now broad across his face.

She moaned and the grin slid off his face, replaced by a feral sort of hunger. They stared at each other until she tried a gentle swirl with her tongue.

It seemed to break his trance. Snatching his hand away, he pulled her up and shoved her over to the bed, where she gracelessly fell onto her back; climbing on top of her, he yanked her shorts to her knees, fingers skimming along the waistband of her knickers.

His eyes widened when he looked down and caught sight of the lace. “These are pretty. For me?”

“Shut up,” she mumbled again, covering her face with her hands.  

"We need to work on your honesty,” he said, sliding inside the lace and giving a gentle press along her clit.

She wriggled against him and moaned again when his fingers slid lower, dipping along her folds.

“Christ,” he muttered, “you're sopping.”

“This is all your fault,” she said in a choked noise, eyes clamped tightly shut.

The first intrusion of his finger was gentle, probing, sending a racing current through her spine. She tensed and he made a shushing sound, pushing up to lean over her. “Relax, shh, relax. Look at me.”

He moved his finger gently and she mewled, still hiding her face.

“Look at me,” he murmured again. “Evie.”

At her name, she unlaced her fingers and peered up at him, lips trembling. It was almost too intense, the way he watched for any reaction, moving his hand steadily. She gulped in more air when he added another finger, the stretch becoming oddly pleasing, the fear subsiding as she started to move, pushing her hips back against his arm to try and get more friction. With his other hand, he tugged up her shirt and pressed a kiss to the tender flesh of her nipples, her body relaxing further as he licked and nipped.

When he curved his fingers without warning and _pressed_ on something she had never felt before, sending a delicious tingling through her body, she shot up from the mattress so quickly that she nearly cracked her head into his. “What- what was that?”

He looked back and forth between her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I didn't know tha-” she broke off and squeaked when he rocked his fingers again, making it happen once more, another rolling wave making her convulse.

"Good?" He growled.

Wide-eyed, she nodded.

He shoved her back down and began to twist his hand in earnest, growing rougher by the second, until she was writhing and almost sobbing from pleasure; when he pulled her hand to her clit, she complied and began to rub, too far gone to even be embarrassed.

This was too intense, more intense than it ever was when she was alone. All of her nerves felt overexposed, like she was a sparking wire hanging from a socket, too dangerous to be touched. But he was touching her anyway, and oh, it felt _good_ , so good that she wondered how she'd ever stayed away from him for the last year, how she'd ever managed to tell herself that she wasn't falling for him desperately, inappropriately, irrevocably-

Her peak was shattering, her spine arching off the bed as she cried out incoherently, the sensation almost paralyzing in its excessive force. Fireworks weren't an extreme enough comparison; it was more like a bomb, leaving shockwaves in its wake that made her as helpless as the original explosion. Jacob smothered her sounds with a kiss as she rocked, trying to extend the pleasure, to make it last forever. She could almost taste his hunger, a hunger that she now shared, binding them together as tightly as fingers in a clenched fist. 

Brain slowly collecting itself, she blinked up at him, simultaneously sated and a bit nervous that he'd seen her so unrestrained.

“That…” His voice cracked a little. “That was so _fucking_ hot.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every day I drift further from God's light.

Was it possible to get addicted to a person?

She had taken over his mind. It was almost like years of repression had meant there was a backlog of longing, a whole dam of obsession that had been hiding behind fragile walls. It was swamping him now, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.

He didn't like to think of himself as a sap, but damn if he didn't feel like pulling out all the stops. Girls liked flowers, right? He should get some flowers. She would like that. He'd never done that before, for anyone, but it felt like the right thing to do now.

There was still the slight issue that they seemed to be going about this a bit backwards, but better late than never-

"Earth to Jacob?"

Ned was waving a hand in Jacob’s face, trying to get his attention.

Jacob blinked slowly. “I, uh… yes?”

“If you'd like to join the rest of us, we wanted to know if you planned to come out with us tonight? Given that you keep ditching?”

He looked around the table. At Agnes, with a cigarette between her fingers, furtively glancing around in case any teachers decided to wander by. Ned, scowling over his bacon sandwich, his eyebrow arched. Rob was fixated on his mobile, likely arguing with someone on Twitter.

All he could see in his mind’s eye was Evie’s soft lips panting at him. “No, I don't think so.”

“Seriously, the hell is up with you lately? You're never around, you keep spacing out all the time like you're fucking _on_ something- and if you are, you should share-”

Rob broke in without even looking up from his mobile. “Isn't it obvious? He's met someone.”

Agnes whipped around. “Really? You?”

“Fuck off,” Jacob mumbled.

Rob tucked his mobile in his jacket pocket with a grin before he broke into a sing-song voice. “Someone’s in looo-oooove.”

\---

He couldn't exactly show up at her school doors with flowers. That would look odd. So, he got a small and bright bouquet of something colourful at the Sainsbury’s and awkwardly stuffed it in his backpack, praying that they wouldn't get too crushed.

The doors of her school were packed with milling students, as always, making it hard to spot her. _St. Animus Grammar School_ loomed in gothic font over them all, the iron-wrought words stately and confident in their own self-importance.

Like its students. Pricks.

When she finally came running out, he started the bike, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Listen, it turns out I have some work to do here- and besides, I heard from Father, he's home early today. You go ahead; I'll just take the bus.”

For some reason, this stung. “What, we don't spend time together if we're not…” He glanced around, not wanting to say the words in public, but knowing she would follow his meaning.

She turned a little pink. “I thought you wouldn't want to.”

“Wouldn't want…” Did she think that he was touching her because- what, just because she was around and he could? He quickly flipped through his memories to see if he had ever given her any evidence to the contrary. Nothing sprung to mind. Okay, so, he maybe could’ve been a little more forthcoming. He could fix that.

He shrugged off his backpack and opened it for her. “Of course I want to see you. Evie, I bought you _flowers_. Can I just sit while you do your work?”

Her eyes were wide as she stared at his bag. She blinked at it, and then back at him, and then back at the flowers again. “Those are for me?”

“Like I'd bother for anyone else.”

It was slow and hesitant at first. But as he watched, she lit up like the sun, glowing from within and projecting all of her happiness directly onto him. It made him warm from top to toe.

The flowers were definitely a good idea.

\---

She couldn't quite believe it.

But true to his word, he sat in the library across from her, absently flipping through her books and frowning at them.

He looked a bit out of place, rumpled school jumper and polyester trousers a jarring contrast to the sea of sleek St. Animus blazers. But he also looked frustratingly handsome, and she could see that he was attracting covert glances from nearby female students. As well as the occasional male student.

Being wooed was delightful, she decided. As that was surely what this had to be; flowers were romantic, and someone as straightforward as Jacob would never get them for any other reason. She felt a happy flush at the thought again, eager to get home and put the daisies in water, a tangible reminder that whatever was happening was slightly more complex than just hormonal fumbling.

After a while, he stopped fidgeting and folded his hands, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. She leaned across the table and gave him a poke with her pencil. “You know, I appreciate the thought, but you don't have to force yourself to be here.”

“No,” he said instantly. She recognized that stubborn set to his jaw. “I wanted to spend the afternoon with you. I'm staying.”

With a little smile, she set back to work on her notes, determined to get through her calculus as quickly as possible.

\---

He drifted off at some point. The library was a nice sort of muffled quiet, and he hadn't been sleeping very well since Evie started appearing in his dreams.

He wasn't sure how long he slept, but he awoke to Evie tapping him on the cheek, her bag packed and slung over her shoulder, the light outside fading through the windows. “I'm finished,”  she said, as he stretched and yawned loudly, earning him a filthy look from some of the other students.

Lurching to his feet, he made to go for the door, but she shook her head.

Beckoning him, she headed further into the library. “I want to show you something.”

She led him past tall shelves packed with books, the air growing thicker as they retreated into the stacks.

“I used to volunteer here,” she said, “do you remember? And I learned some things.”

“Like?”

“Like about here.” She came to a stop in a sort of enclosed corner tucked in a darker corner of the library, the shelves absolutely stuffed with books that looked like they hadn't been disturbed in years.

“What about here?”

Motioning him further in, she put her hands on his chest. “This is the law reference section, but all of this has been indexed online…”

“Okay?”

She was starting to look a bit impatient with him for not keeping up. “So no one ever comes back here.”

 _Oh_. It finally twigged.

Sliding his hands around her waist, he was about to pull her in for a kiss when she pressed her lips to his chin, and then his neck, and then his chest. He froze as she steadily worked her way down, landing on her knees, face against his stomach in kisses that he couldn't feel through his heavy jumper.

The blood was rushing to his hips so fast that he felt like he might pass out.

When she reached his trousers, he let out a stifled groan.

“Quiet,” she whispered, giggling a little. “We’re out of sight, not out of hearing.”

She was feathering kisses through the fabric now, looking up at him with just the hint of a sly smile. All he could do was watch, immobile, as she unbuttoned his trousers with a flick, sliding the zipper down so she could press a kiss to his boxers.

There was a puff of air as she let out a little sigh. “Will you ask nicely?”

He closed his eyes and felt a surge of… _That_ feeling again, mixed in with the lust and anticipation. The desire to bend her to his will. To dominate. To _own_.

Reaching down, he curled his fingers into her hair. It was braided today, some sort of intricate pattern that was easy to hang onto. Twisting her head back, he made sure she was watching him. “I don't beg, remember?”

There was a twitch of confusion.

“You beg for _me_.”

Her eyes took on that dreamy look that he was starting to recognize, her shoulders relaxing. There was the sound of someone coughing in the distance, the reminder of where they were only serving to spike his lust with adrenaline.

Hunching over until his lips almost touched the top of her head, he whispered. “So do it. Beg for me.”

“Please,” she breathed, barely a sound.

“Please what?”

She was still, so still that she could’ve been a statue, were it not for the soft texture of her hair and the subtle rise of her chest. “Please let me...” Her words trailed off into silence, swallowed up by the thick carpets and sound dampening miles of books.

“Please let me what?”

He barely recognized her voice, supplicating as it was. “Please let me suck you.”

She had to say the words. He gave her hair a quick tug that made her eyelashes flutter. “Suck what?”

Part of him wanted to hurry this along, because his dick desperately needed to be touched. Just as powerfully, though, part of him wanted to drag it out for as long as he could manage, given the obvious effect it was having on her.

The words were breathed against his hips. Some day, he'd get her to say them when she was looking at him- so he could savour what they did to her- but for now, it would do. “Please let me suck your cock.”

Straightening, he released her quickly, gripping the shelves around him while she worked to pull his dick free. When she put her mouth on him, it was sloppy and a bit awkward, but he was so enthralled by the view that he honestly didn’t give a _shit_ about finesse. If anything, the fact that she was clearly unpracticed gave him a bit of a thrill; he didn’t want to think about her doing this with anyone else. He wanted to be her first everything from here on out if he possibly could.

She gave a few tentative bobs before she pushed down on him as much as she could manage, and it took all of his self-control to not groan out loud at the movement. Placing his fingers on the back of her head, he guided her gently until she set a rhythm that made his cock throb, the hot wetness of her mouth endlessly better than anything his hand could _ever_ hope to replicate.

If it was possible to become addicted to someone, he was rapidly becoming dependent.

Suddenly she was adding suction and his brain almost whited out, fingers scrabbling against the shelves. Oh fuck he had to control himself- she eased up and he nearly gasped when she switched to some sort of swirling motion around the tip with her tongue. Clever girl, clever- shit fuck _damn it_ —

She pulled away for a moment and swiped at her mouth. “Good?” she asked, colour high in her cheeks, hair now pulled a little askew from her braids.

“You have no idea,” he managed, doing his utmost to not let his knees shake.

She lowered her eyes. “I know I don’t really know- I mean, I did a bit of reading about this—”

She had done _reading_ , Christ, of course she had, and for a moment he was more grateful than he had ever been for his sister’s studious nature. He put his fingers to her chin and lifted her face again, so he could look at her. “Evie, this is so fucking incredible that I am literally seconds from losing it- speaking of which, unless you have tissues, I need to make a quick exit to the loos.”

“Oh no, no,” she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “I can do it.”

The sound that his brain made was just incoherent whining. “What.”

“I’ll just swallow, it’s fine.”

 _Just_. Fucking _just_ like that wasn’t something that’d he lain awake over countless nights, something that he’d probably be wanking off to for the next month and a half.

His silence seemed to make her uncertain. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

No no nono _no_ this chance was not passing him by, not in a million years. Summoning some of that old focus, he leant down again, so he could turn her head and whisper against the shell of her ear. “I want nothing more than to come in that pretty fucking mouth.” She shuddered out a long sigh and he nipped her earlobe quickly before straightening again.

She was already more confident when she started again, and he immediately realized that all of his effort was going to need to go into being quiet. He’d been trying to hold back and let her lead, but _fuck_ it felt good, and he started to buck his hips in erratic bursts, little thrusts into her warm and willing mouth. To his unrestrained delight, she let him, face scrunching as she tried to accommodate more of him and godfuckingdamnit she was just so _cute_ with her freckles and her hands fisted in her skirt and she looked so innocent and she was fucking sucking him off and ohholychrist-

The release was a tidal wave, building steadily before it abruptly hit the shore with a thunderous roar. He had to stuff his knuckles in his mouth and bite down to stop from making any noise; she made a little whine in the back of her throat as he felt each new spurt rush through him, and he twitched violently at the sensation the sound produced.

Still in awe, he stared as she pulled away and tipped her head back as she swallowed. Somewhat daintily, she rearranged his clothes, zipping him back up- which was just as well, because there was a very good possibility that he was going to fall over if he let go of the shelf.

When she stood, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “I really appreciate your staying to visit today.”

His mind was still swimming. “You do know- that you didn’t have to- that I was just happy to visit-”

“I know,” she said, shooting him a bright grin. “I just wanted to taste you, that’s all.”

It was definitely possible to become addicted to a person. He was already a junkie. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people have reached out to me lately to let me know that they've enjoyed my work, and it's honestly made my week. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 
> 
> It's also partly why I've been overwhelming everyone with updates, lol, I am very easily swayed and write faster when urged. So everyone wins (?).


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more filth, I guess?

Debate club was on Saturdays. St. Animus always made a good showing at regionals, and Mr. Green was in charge this year, determined to keep them in top shape.

Normally, she took the bus. Normally, she didn’t have Jacob half-following her around and offering to do things for her. He was clearly determined to make up for any perceived deficit in affection, because as days rolled by, she kept finding little gifts sitting around. A chocolate bar in her bag. A new set of pencils with little cats on them left on her bed. Cups of hot cocoa at her desk when she came back from practice.

It was lovely.

So, she took him up on his offer to drive her to debate, snuggling happily against his back for the ride.

Practice ran a bit later than usual.  Everyone else had mostly left when Mr. Green asked her to stay behind. “Your content is excellent, but we need to talk about your presentation.” He gestured to the stage.

When she walked to the podium, he followed her, putting her notes against the stand.

As she stood, she could feel him standing very close behind her, breath almost on her neck. He reached around and put his hands on her forearms. “Place your arms like so, not at your sides.” She felt a palm trace her back, coaxing her to straighten. “Hold your shoulders steady.”

There was a creak and she saw Jacob slide in the door at the far side of the room, clearly looking to see why she wasn't coming out when everyone was leaving.

Mr. Green didn't seem to have noticed. He stepped around to her side and put his hand to her chin, encouraging her to lift it. “Look slightly over the crowd when you're speaking.” His hand lingered just a little bit too long for comfort, just a touch too warm against her skin-

There was a pointed cough from the back of the room. Even from a distance, Jacob looked murderous.

Turning quickly, Mr. Green dropped his hand. “That'll be all, Miss Frye.”

\---

The park was pleasant, a rare and sunny fall day making the colours of the leaves brilliant. Jacob was tucked into his new scarf, a fluffy knitted green thing that had mysteriously appeared in front of his bedroom door last night. Evie had beamed when he wore it down to breakfast.

He liked it here and he liked being here with her, though he would've liked even it better if he could've held her hand. Instead, they sat on a bench and ate ice creams, Evie perching sideways and huddling into her big sweater. Halfway through her cone, she made a face. “Why did I let you talk me into ice cream if I'm cold?”

“Search me. You're always cold.”

He wished he could lean over and press a frozen kiss to her lips. Oh well, maybe later.

He crumpled the wrapper and stuffed it in his pocket. “Who was that guy on the stage with you?” It had been jarring to walk in and see a man standing over her, far, _far_ too close, the gesture eerily reminiscent of a lover’s slow embrace. He'd had to resist the urge to sprint up and shove the stranger away from her. And give him a solid kick in the gut for good measure.

She gave her cone a delicate lick that made his brain do funny things. “That's just Mr. Green. He runs the debate team. He also teaches my English Lit.”

“Don't like him,” he muttered. “Don't like the way he was looking at you.”

She laughed. “Don't be ridiculous. He's a teacher. Well, trainee, but still.”

A teacher who stared at her like she was a feast that he desperately wanted to eat. “Just don't want anyone else touching you, is all.”

For a moment, she twisted around and pressed her head to his shoulder, a comforting gesture. But just as quickly, she had to move away; there was the risk that they might be seen by someone they knew, and they just couldn't chance it. Going home wouldn't help, because Father was off for the weekend.

The wind was brisk, even if the sun was warm, and he watched as she huddled deeper into her sweater. “I'm sure loads of girls hit on you at your school, anyway.”

“It happens,” he conceded. He'd known most of those girls since primary, so they didn't tend to make many attempts, but every now and then he'd get an awkward proposition. Especially once puberty hit. “Doesn't do much, though.”

“Really?”

“Of course, because I'm blatantly not interested.” He leaned closer and grinned. “I've got something much better.” He swiped a finger into her ice cream, leaning back and popping it into his mouth as she protested with a laugh.

\---

They fell into something of a routine. Jacob would meet her after school and they would race back to make use of the time before Father got home, fumbling and kissing until they both had bruised lips and aching bodies.

The problem was that she was often busy. There was ballet, Latin club, debate, field hockey, and her tutoring job besides; he wasn't exactly free either, between boxing training and mowing lawns on weekends and friends that were beginning to get suspicious.

Sometimes, it got hard to wait.

They were on a fourth brutal day of missed opportunities when her mobile buzzed near the end of her lunch. Lucy and Pearl were in a heated discussion about the relative merits of Oxford and Cambridge, so she politely excused herself and took the call in the hallway.

"Hello?"

"Evie.” The words were almost a sigh, Jacob’s voice quiet. “Are you busy?”

She smiled into her phone. “Not too busy for you.”

"Are you somewhere private?" His tone was… _Hungry_ , almost, and she had to squeeze her legs to try and tamp down a physical response. If only they could find more time to be alone. 

She glanced down the hallway. “No, not really.”

“Can you go somewhere private?”

Biting her lip, she thought of the various nooks and crannies around the school. “Why?”

He chuckled. “I think you know why.”

Her knees felt a bit weak at the thought. Common sense dictated that this was a bad idea, but she wasn’t really thinking with her brain. “I think chapel is empty at this hour.”

“Kinky. I like it.”

She set out down the hallway, dodging students and winding her way towards the older part of the building. “Are you alone?”

There was a sigh. “Barton isn’t as big or as nice as your fancy-ass school, remember? No, I’m in the corner of the yard.” He chuckled again. " _Chapel_. I’d be lucky to find a broom closet where someone isn’t snogging already.”

She pushed the old wooden doors open, poking her head into the room. Light played across the tile floor from the stained glass windows, dust twinkling in the air. As she’d expected, it was quiet as the grave, the enclosed space usually empty outside of choir and services. “I was right, there’s no one here.”

“Excellent. Get comfortable.”

She slid into one of the pews in the back row, out of the view of the door, most of her body obscured by the rows of wood. “I really miss you.”  

The breath that he took was shuddering and long. “I miss you too. Are you-“

“Wait,” she interrupted. “When you say you’re in the yard-”

“Relax, I’m miles from anyone. Won't be overheard.”

“Right.” She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the row in front of her, willing the coolness of the wood to seep into her and ease her burning skin, to calm her thumping heart.

He sighed. “I wish I was with you.”

“I wish it too.”

“But, I’m not, so you’re going to have to pretend your hands are mine.”

She closed her eyes and tried to keep her voice even. “I can do that.”

His voice slipped into a low and modulated tone, one that caressed up her spine like skimming fingers. “What do you normally do when you’re alone?”

Pushing off to the edge of the pew, she steadied herself. “Well, uh…” She was getting better at slipping into telling him things, but there was always that first rush of embarrassment, that hurdle to clear before she could really comply. “I just… Use my hand, focus on the outside…”

“Start with that,” he said instantly. “Go on.”

“Hang on,” she mumbled, “I'll pull down the kneeler, that'll make this easier.”

“A kneeler. You're kneeling in a chapel, and about to touch yourself for me.” He made a strangled noise. “That is the hottest fucking thing, it isn't even fair.”

She giggled a little, the sound turning a bit breathy as she pushed down onto the padded wood and slid her hand up her skirt, pressing her hand to the junction of her thighs.

He made an appreciative hum. “Is your hand over or under your knickers?”

“Over,” she sighed, starting to rock a bit back and forth on her knees as she swirled her fingertips. She was used to being in bed, on her back, but this new position was still pleasant. The risk certainly didn't hurt in terms of heightening the sensation, either. 

He snapped his tongue. “You're supposed to be me, remember? I'm not patient enough for that. Under.”

God, his voice did things to her, made her want to curl right out of her skin. She let herself moan a little louder than usual as she slipped under the fabric, enjoying the way his breath hitched at the sound. “Oh, Jacob…”

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, “are you wet for me?”

She slid her fingers down and found that she was embarrassingly ready. “I am,” she managed, whispering back in the slightly echoing space.

“Good. Use a finger there.”

“But…” She hesitated, uncertain. That was foreign territory, something she didn't generally bother with. “I really don't ever-“

“Finger. Now.”

Ugh, that voice. With a shuddering breath, she clamped her eyes shut and pushed her middle digit in, thighs quivering at the unfamiliar movement. Air rushed from her lungs as she pressed, and she could hear a pleased but quiet groan on the other side of the phone.

“Now,” he said quietly, “move your hand for me. Imagine me there. That it's me in your pretty cunt.”

Her stomach dropped through the floor at the words, so filthy and wrong and _oh so right_. She began to buck, head pressed to the pew in front of her, spine bowed. “Jacob- _Jacob_ -”

“Is it enough?”

As if it could ever be enough without him near. “No.”

“Add another finger. Grind against your palm.”

It slid in easily, giving that little bit more friction that pushed her towards release. If she closed her eyes tightly and really tried to imagine, it almost could've been him.

“If I were there, I'd flip you over a pew and finger you until you were screaming, you have no idea.”

“Oh God,” she managed, words hitching with a little sob. “It feels so good-”

“Add another.”

Her mind was spinning through a fog of lust, so much that she almost thought she'd misheard him. “What?”

“Another finger. Your fingers are slimmer than mine, and I need you to feel full.”

“I can't,” she breathed, still bucking, still climbing.

“You will. Now, Evie.”

“I can't-”

“ _Do it_.”

It was stretching, deliciously too much, three fingers slick with her own wetness, hips almost moving of their own accord. She was close, so close, each grind against her palm another spark next to kindling, a promise whispered in the dark-

"Are you going to come?”

She could distantly tell that she was babbling, but it was beyond her to stop. “I'm so close so so close I need to- oh god so-”

“Good,” he said, voice suddenly severe. “Now, stop.”

“ _What_?” The word was a sob, no longer restrained.

“Be a good girl. Stop for me.”  

There was no way. She couldn't, not now, not with heaven so close. Not even for him. “I can't- stop-”

His voice was a growl. "You'd better. Or else.”

“I- I'm-”

The die was already cast; it was too late, the orgasm rushing on her, making her keen through closed lips and crumple against her own body as it rocked through her from head to toe. She was so _full_ and raw and not sated all at once; she needed him here, needed _him_. It simply wasn't as good on her own, no matter how she tried to pretend. “I'm sorry,” she managed when she could breathe again, blinking stars out of her eyes, slowly coming back to earth, aching from the feeling of somehow only wanting more.

“Oh, Evie,” he rumbled, the sound pleased and dark all at once. “You are in _so_ much trouble when I get you alone.”

The line went dead and she was left shaking, thighs sticky and knees getting sore against the scratchy cushions, panting into the cool silence.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure that I'm getting to the point where hell would spit me back out in disgust.

Jacob didn't get his chance for another two solid days.

For the first evening, she was skittish around him, shooting him nervous glances through dinner and giving him a tentative peck on the cheek before bed.

As time passed, though, she relaxed. Either she couldn't keep up that level of tension or she must've hoped he'd forgotten.

He hadn't forgotten.

The opportunity finally opened up when there was a bang at the door after dinner one night. He answered it and found George on the steps, looking impatient.

“Here to take Ethan for a drink,” he announced. “He can't keep moping at home.”

Father appeared in the doorway. “George?”

“Come on,” George said, beckoning to him. “We're going to the pub. Get a pint or two in you, just like the old days.”

Father sighed. “I really don't think-”

“No, no, I'm not taking no for answer. You need to start moving forward.”

Jacob practically had his fingers crossed behind his back. When Father cast him an uncertain glance, he nodded, trying not to look too eager. “Moping won't bring Mother back, remember?”

George snorted. “Harsh, but the boy speaks truth.”

Jacob could see Evie hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, taking in the proceedings. He raised his eyebrows at her and she bit her lip ever so slightly.

Please go, he tried to project to Father. Please go.

“Fine,” Father finally said. “I'll get my coat.”

George grinned. “Excellent.” He cast a look at the twins. “Don't worry, I'll bring him back in one piece.”

The front door clicked shut behind both of them and Jacob hovered for a moment by the window, waiting until they rounded the corner in the distance.

When they had, he turned back and locked eyes with Evie.

She _bolted_.

In all honesty, she was probably faster than he was. But she couldn’t have been trying very hard, because he caught up to her halfway up the stairs; scooping her up, he tossed her over his shoulder as she laughed, batting at his back with her hands.

By the time they got to the landing, she was squirming so hard that he landed a sharp smack on her rear. That just made her gasp and then laugh harder, the delighted sound making him grin.

He walked to her room- her bed was better for this, with bars instead of a headboard. Flopping her onto the mattress, he slid her tie off the back of her desk chair, quickly moving his hands up her arms.

Silently thanking five years of Boy Scouts, he secured her wrists to the bars, slipping his fingers between her skin and the fabric to make sure there was room to move and not cut off circulation.

“Jacob?” She sounded hesitant, a little nervous. He pressed a kiss to her mouth, enjoying the way she parted her lips for him willingly, hungrily.

He pulled away and brushed her nose with his own. “I seem to recall someone not following orders.” Sliding his hands down to her chest, he started to work on her buttons. “Pick a safe word.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Uh… Red.”

Nodding, he pressed his mouth to the space between her breasts, licking a trail back up to her neck. Latching onto the curve of her shoulder, he started to suck, gently pressing down with his teeth.

Almost immediately, she started to squirm and tug on her bonds. “Hey, you'll- you'll leave a mark-”

He slid a hand under her bra and squeezed, letting the nipple pebble under his hand. Lifting his head, he ran his tongue along the forming bruise. “That's the point.”

“But-”

“It's to remind you.” He stretched up to her ear. “Who owns you, the next time you don't obey.”

Her heartbeat was speeding under his hand, thumping loudly. Fuck, she smelled good, some sort of floral soap and strawberries and arousal all at once. “No one owns me.”

“We’ll see,” he murmured, before lowering himself back to her neck and resuming his work, expanding on the blooming marks on her skin.

This was all still a bit unreal. It was unreal that she was so desperate for him, that she was making little perfect noises under him, that her exquisite body was his to admire. Part of him wished he could tell the whole _world_ who was putting this mark on her, that she let him touch her any way he wanted. It couldn't happen, of course. Pity.

Once he was satisfied with the bruise and with her whimpers, he moved down, pushing the bra up and pressing a soft kiss to the pink buds. Without warning, he closed his teeth down, lightly enough to not really damage, tightly enough to hurt. She let out a hissing sound of surprise and tried to kick at him, but he kept her held down with his weight, adding his tongue until the sounds of pain had transformed into pleasure, her movements shifting from pushing him off to urging him on, her hips grinding against him. He was straining against his trousers now, hard practically from the moment that he'd tossed her onto the bed, days of planning and longing surging to the surface. Grunting, he tugged his shirt off, shoving out of his trousers and socks until he was just in his boxers, enjoying the way her flushed gaze settled on the lump there.

“Soon,” he whispered, giving her nose a flick. “Soon.”

Her skin was delicious, soft and clean, and he felt like he would never taste enough it. Down, down, he worked his lips along her stomach, peeling off her leggings and tossing them aside.

Easing up her legs, he kissed in small patterns, inching closer to her pretty pink knickers. Right as he got close, though, he switched tactics, biting down on her inner thigh, sucking again to leave a mark. There was something deeply satisfying about knowing he had put something tangible on her pale skin, a reminder of him for days to come.

As soon as his teeth sank into her flesh, she cried out and tried to wriggle away. “Jacob! Ow-”

He lathed the spot with his tongue before he pulled away with a grin. “I know you like this.” He phrased it as a statement, not a question; he'd noticed the way she responded to light touches of pain, clutching him tighter as he applied pressure in the right places.

She raised her head up with some difficulty, hair slipping loose from her ponytail, and scowled at him. “No, of course not.”

He shrugged and pushed himself up, reclining on his elbow. “Then why do I know I'll find you soaking?”

A pink tinge was creeping across her face. “I'm not.”

She was being particularly belligerent today, which just made this better as far as he was concerned. It would make it all the sweeter when she finally caved. “Is that so?”

Lifting her chin, she narrowed her eyes.

That was definitely a challenge. Well, if she wanted to be that way, he could play rough.

Cocking his head at her, he yanked her panties all the way off her legs in quick jerks, feeling the clearly damp fabric with his fingers. After a little moment’s hesitation, he rolled them into a ball and crawled over her, gripping her jaw and forcing her mouth open. Before she could complain, he pushed the knickers in, effectively gagging her. “Seems pretty wet to me.”

Her eyes were so wide that the whites seemed to glow in the fading light. She was breathing rapidly through her nose, chest rising and falling, gaze full of adrenaline and want.

It suddenly occurred to him that she couldn't use the safe word this way. “Snap your fingers if this needs to stop. Okay? Any time. Promise me.” 

He waited and her fingers didn't move. Instead, she nodded dumbly, eyes fixed on him.

“Good,” he purred, sliding back down between her legs. Parting her dark curls, he found her clit and started to rub with his thumb in the dainty little circles that he knew she liked. Moaning into the fabric, she arched, back lifting off the mattress, legs scrabbling beside him. He waited until her eyes were fluttering shut, her sounds getting pitched and focused.

And then he stopped.

When she frowned down at him, confused, he gave her the biggest shit-eating grin that he could manage before starting again. And once more, when she was really starting to wriggle properly, he stopped.

Her eyes were getting angry now, little furious noises issuing from her throat. She was so damn _cute_ when she was pissed.

Ducking his head down, he pressed his tongue to the ridiculously engorged nub, tracing out her name with little flicks. As he pushed two fingers into her wetness, he felt her clamp down on him, frantically chasing her relief; crooking his fingers, he stroked, listening as she lapsed into moaning. “Such a tight cunt, so wet and ready,” he crooned to her skin, her hips shuddering against his mouth. “So beautiful, so perfectly made for me.” When her head started to roll, he lifted his lips and stilled, using one hand to press down on her bucking hips, rendering her immobile. “Who owns you?”

There was a muffled keening sound. Reaching up, he pulled the knickers out of her mouth, letting her say a strangled _please_.

“I asked you a question.”

Her fingers tangled into her bonds, gripping them tightly, her teeth gritted. “No one- owns me-”

Shrugging, he stuffed the fabric back in, lowering his head again. She was so wet that it was getting on her sheets, slickness sliding down his hand. He flicked his tongue and sucked until he felt that fluttering start around his fingers, and then he withdrew. Starting. Stopping. Starting. Stopping. Again, again, again. Her noises gradually shifted into one continuous pitched whine, her legs desperately trying to trap him against her skin, her heels kicking against his back in fury each time he stilled. Next time he might need to tie up her feet as well.

He had to slide his boxers off and give his cock some slow strokes, the ache of arousal becoming overwhelming as she wriggled under him. He could feel the sticky pre-come against his thumb, smearing over his skin. If he had to wait, she had to wait. “Patience, sweet girl,” he coaxed. “Patience. Take your punishment.”

Before long, she was sobbing, bars clattering against the wall as she pulled against her bonds. After one particularly drawn out wail, he moved up over her again, breathing heavily. “This is what happens when bad girls disobey. They don't get to come.” He ran a lick along the now-purpling bruise on her neck and pulled the fabric out of her mouth again, tossing it onto the floor. Surely, now, she would submit. “You know what I need to hear. Who owns you?”

The words were blubbered out, her tone beseeching. “You do, you do, you do, please- _please_ let me come-”

“You'll obey from now on, won't you?”

She just nodded wordlessly, frantically, quivering as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. The head of his cock suddenly made bobbing contact with her wetness and they both froze, panting into the air.

Oh _fuck_ that was tempting. She wasn't stopping him and he tried a few tentative movements, not penetrating, just rubbing along her slit. At that, she moaned, trying to angle her hips up for him. He pushed in just a fraction, her warmth enveloping the tip, making his mind go white, and she let out the sweetest whimper-

They could just- it would be- they could-

He snapped his eyes shut and snarled, trying to stay himself. Not now. Come on, Jacob. _Focus_. Not like this.

Pushing her legs down, he swiftly climbed up to straddle her chest, pushing her tits together and thrusting his cock between them in a desperate attempt to replicate that warmth. He was already close, and when she softly moaned out another plea, he was done for; he clapped a straining arm against the wall and held himself as ropes of come spurted out across her chest and neck, sliding down her skin, as satisfying a sight as he'd ever seen.

Shakily, he unpicked the knot and let her hands free, rubbing her wrists where they were red and chafed. “So good,” he breathed, pressing kisses to her hands as she squirmed, lips flush and wet, staring at him with undisguised want. “So good for me.”

She was pliant now, almost shaking, cheeks streaked with tears. “Please, Jacob, please-”

“I know.” He rolled onto his back and motioned her up, pulling one of her legs over so she was straddling his face. “Good girls get rewarded.”

Normally, he had the feeling that she would be too embarrassed to do this. But she was _much_ too far gone for embarrassment now. Jesus, what a treat.

He had to be gentle, to go slowly; she was so overstimulated that she would try and pull away if he did anything too roughly. So he kept his licks soft and deliberate, his fingers steady and insistent as she squirmed over him, hands against the wall, her voice throaty and desperate but her words incoherent. He hadn't been working long when he felt her inner walls clench, like so many times before, but this time he let it happen; moments later, she keened out his name and came undone on top of him, wailing as she rocked her hips. It seemed to go on and on, longer than what he'd seen from her before, aftershocks chasing the orgasm as he crooked his fingers, trying to ease it along. Her whole body was shaking by the time she was finished, her lungs gasping out shuddering breaths.

He gently shifted up and helped her relax down beside him, pulling her out of the shirt and bra still hanging off her body. Quickly standing and padding to the bathroom, he returned with a warm wet rag to clean off her chest; using some lotion, he massaged the sore marks on her wrists, giving them kisses as she smiled at him with a benevolent and happy glow. So beautiful. His Evie.

Lying in her bed, he spooned her smaller body against his own, tucking his nose against her hair. It was a luxury to let his fingers trail over her soft skin, to feel the way they touched everywhere, sweaty and sated together.

Eventually, she rolled over to face him, pressing her nose against his tattoo. He couldn't see the smile, but he could hear it. “You're _such_ an asshole.”

\---

It was hard to focus and get ready for the day. She couldn't stop thinking of the moment when he had almost pushed into her, the closeness aching, the anticipation thunderous. Now- with her mind a little clearer- she was glad that he hadn't. At the time, though, she had been furious when he pulled away, ready to kick and beg until he would fulfil that powerful need.

It seemed a sensible time to phone and make an appointment with her GP.

As they were getting on his bike to go to school, she cleared her throat. “I'm getting an IUD next Thursday.”

He froze, already gripping the handlebars. Twisting around, he yanked his helmet off, eyes wide. “What?”

Her shrug was as nonchalant as she could manage. “We shouldn't risk anything.”

“Well, no, obviously, but…”

She tipped her chin up. “Yes?”

Words seemed to fail him. “Uh, nothing.” He shook his head a little, as if trying to blink away sleep. “Let's go.”

She had put a scarf on for school, trying to cover the giant hickey on her neck. It had proved impossible to hide; she applied some makeup over it, but it was so mottled and raw that nothing could obscure it completely.

She was barely two steps into the school before she got slapped with a uniform infraction.

So, she was forced to abandon the scarf and endure the snickers of her classmates for the rest of the day, little pointed giggles that she did her best to ignore. A few people point-blank asked her who it was from, but she just shrugged and smiled, hoping it made her seem mysterious.

The strangest reaction came from Mr. Green. He was passing out work sheets but stopped dead when he came to her desk, eyes fixed on the mark. There was a full beat before he cleared his throat and shook his head, moving on.

Evie felt a tap on her shoulder. When she craned around in her chair, Pearl was grinning at her from the desk right behind.

Pearl tossed her head in Mr. Green’s direction. “I'd shag him, if I were you.”

Evie goggled at Pearl. “I beg your pardon?”

“He's obviously smitten, can't you tell? He can barely keep his eyes off you. You could ace English Lit with no effort.”

Jacob had said a similar thing, she remembered, though he was significantly less cheerful about it.

The whole thought made her uncomfortable.

Towards the end of the day, she got a text from Jacob. _Id like to take u away somewhere_.

She smiled at her mobile. _That would be nice._

 _Im serious_ , he replied. _Just for a night. To the seaside or something. Maybe next wknd?_

A whole night together. Alone. With no interruptions or risk of being caught. It was an exhilarating thought, delicious, tempting.

She tapped out her response quickly, before she could change her mind. _Let's do it._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have now cleared my backlog of written chapters, so the breakneck updating speed will ease. I should probably go put some energy into my other WIP, lol.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after all that fuss about taking things slower I got super excited about people being so nice about this fic and wrote a new chapter anyway. Nobody listen to me.

They settled on the small and pretty town of Rye. It was close enough that they could get to it easily, but far enough that there was basically no chance of running into someone they knew.

Jacob picked the Bed and Breakfast, dipping into his fairly meagre savings to pay for it. It was probably more than he ought to have spent on just one night, but he wanted them to go somewhere nice.

She seemed a bit confused by that. Ever practical, she had suggested a motel on the outskirts of London somewhere, but shrugged and accepted it when he insisted. He didn’t quite know how to explain that he wanted it to be somewhere special, a memorable weekend for lots of reasons. That he wanted to treat her, show that he could be thoughtful. Romantic.

The fact that he didn’t know how to summon the words made him pause. ‘I love you’ should have been easy enough to say, in principle; they’d been saying it to each other since they were children. It meant something else, obviously, in their new context, but that shouldn’t have made it so difficult.

There was that niggling fear that festered under the surface. What if she deliberately misunderstood? What if she didn’t return it? She seemed to, but she was hard to read at the best of times, emotions locked up tightly inside an impenetrable fortress of order and discipline.

He told Father that he was going camping with some friends over the weekend, that he’d be out of reach. Father just shrugged and nodded.

\---

One of her millions of extracurricular activities seemed like the best bet for going away without arousing suspicion.

In the end, she decided to tell Father that she was going to an overnight field hockey practice match. That had happened before, so it wouldn't seem out of the ordinary.

He asked her if she'd need any money, she told him she wouldn't, and that was the end of that.

She also needed to excuse herself from debate practice. Lingering after class, she approached Mr. Green at his desk. “I'm afraid I won't be at practice this weekend. I have a family event I can't miss.” Not strictly untrue.

He frowned at her over his books. “We’re approaching a crucial time in preparation, Miss Frye. I hope you won't be making a habit of this.”

“No, Sir.”

“You seem to often be distracted as of late. Is something wrong? Something…” He hesitated. “Something happening at home?”

After a fashion. “Just tired.”

He stood to put a hand on her shoulder. Again, she couldn't help but notice that the grip was a little too tight, the touch a little too long. “You can talk to me any time.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a polite smile.

\---

They left the house at separate times.

She went earlier, carrying her duffel bag over her shoulder and going before anyone else was really awake. They had agreed to meet at the station around midday, but she had an errand she wanted to run.

The store was quiet, but it was somehow still overwhelming. She'd always just gone straight for the beige and white underwear section at the M&S, and this seemed like a totally different ballpark. The sheer array of available colours and styles was sort of making her head spin. Some of these things were ridiculous, made of barely any fabric at all. How could she spend £45 on a scrap of a thong?

She almost bailed.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. This was no more frightening than impending A-levels or a ballet competition. She could do this.

In the end, she settled on a matching set that was black and lacy. It was slightly see-through, which seemed impractical, but she reminded herself that practicality wasn't technically the goal in this case.

It would be nice if he liked it. She had no idea what his preferences were in this area.

The girl at the till praised her choice. “This set is very popular,” she said, wrapping it in pretty paper and putting it in a discreet bag.

She suddenly wanted to share with someone. “I'm going away for the weekend with my-” Evie almost stumbled on the word, “-boyfriend.” What a strange concept. In all but name, though, that was exactly what he'd been over the past weeks. The thought gave her a sort of tingly happy feeling.

The shop girl did a cheerful little clap. “I'm sure he’ll adore it.”

Evie hoped she was right.

\---

Rubbing his hands together nervously, he looked over his packed bag for the last time.

A change of clothes. Sleep things. Toiletries. Condoms. Lube.

He felt a little lightheaded every time he looked at the last two. He'd even settled on wearing a longer coat for the day, mostly because he couldn't trust junior to behave in public in light of what was happening.

Oh, Christ, this was happening.

He wandered down the stairs and grunted his goodbye at Father. Father grunted back.

The wind was chilly when he left the house, impending winter hanging low in the air.

She was waiting on the train platform when he arrived, tucked into a warm scarf and boots. He wished he could greet her with a peck on the cheek, but he settled for quickly squeezing her hand, wiggling his eyebrows at her as she giggled.

The train ride was long. They sat across from each other and she worked on her homework; he was grateful for the coat over his lap, because she would occasionally wrap her lips around the end of her pen and suck thoughtfully. Bloody distracting.

They stood outside Rye station, getting their bearings. He fiddled with google maps on his phone and turned to her. “We can go get something to eat, if you'd like, or we can head straight to the hotel.”

She stepped close to him, her lips an inch from his ear. “I think you know what I'd prefer.”

\---

She had been nervous to check in. Everything was in his name and she knew that they didn't even look particularly related, but she still couldn't relax until they had the key and were alone.

The attendant had barely left the room before they fell on each other. Coats and hats, scarves and shoes were tossed aside as they grappled, almost wrestling each other towards the bed.

He had pushed her down on the plush coverlet and was tugging her shirt up when she remembered her new underwear, still sitting in its pretty paper. “Hang on,” she said, tapping him quickly on the shoulder. He responded by feathering ticklish kisses to her stomach, fingers lightly tracing her waist until she was laughing. “Jacob, hang on!”

He finally looked up and pouted. “What?”

“I need to get ready.”

His brow creased. “Get ready… How?”

Wriggling out from under him, she leaned down to press a kiss to his nose. “Trust me.”

Shrugging, he shuffled up on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. The bed itself was huge, a fancy Victorian looking thing that took up most of the available space other than a small dresser and table for making tea. The whole room was fairly ornate, with patterned wallpaper and a soft carpet.

Now that they were here, she was glad they hadn't gone with a motel. It would've made the whole thing seem a lot more… Grubby.

“Two minutes,” she promised, grabbing the bag and going to the bathroom.

It was quite nice in its own right, with a sizeable shower and a deep claw foot bathtub. She would definitely need to use that later.

Slipping out of her things, she pulled on the bra and panties, stopping to look in the mirror. Considering her reflection, she undid her bun, combing her hair with her fingers in an attempt to make it a bit fluffier. Turning a bit this way and that, she tried a pout in the mirror. Ugh, no, bad idea, it just made her look petulant.

She didn't feel particularly sexy. She mostly felt nervous. God, he'd better not laugh at her for trying too hard or something. He'd looked so _good_ on the bed, fitted t-shirt and jeans showing off the benefits of all that boxing, and she wanted him so badly that it almost hurt.

Adjusting the bra slightly so it pushed her breasts up a bit more, she took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped back into the room.

Jacob had moved from the bed to the table, where he was fiddling with the kettle. “I think this might be broken, I can't get it t- ohholychrist.” He dropped the kettle on the table, where it bounced off to the floor.

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“I- uh,” he stammered, voice now a bit more high-pitched than usual. “You, um. I…”

She gestured to herself. “Do you like it?”

He had lapsed into staring at the bra, mouth hanging a little open.  

A bit impatient, she stepped towards him and was about to ask again when he held up a hand.

“Hang on,” he said faintly. “I'm preserving this image so I can keep it until I die.”

Feeling a surge of confidence at his words, she grinned and attempted a slow spin, wiggling her hips a little.

“Fuck,” he rasped, the sound drawn out and faint.

When she completed her turn, she found that he had taken a few steps toward her, now just out of reach.

He almost looked nervous. “Can I…” he said slowly, putting a hand out towards her.

Reaching out and tangling his fingers with her own, she pulled him closer, pressing his hand to her breast.

He was on her in an instant, his mouth crushed against her own with almost angry intensity, his other hand snaking around her hip so he could yank her to him. When she moaned and arched against him, he slid both hands to her ass and picked her up off the ground, her legs wrapping around his waist as he conveyed them to the bed.

“Fuck, Evie,” he moaned, setting her down on the edge and kneeling before her. “I think you're trying to kill me.”

He ran his thumbs along the lace of her panties and she spread her legs wider, gasping when he tucked the thin band aside and slid his thumb into her.

“Fuck,” he said again, leaning forward and pressing a kiss through the fabric, his breath hot. “So fucking beautiful.”

The words made her relax a bit more, mind going cloudy and blank, a curled heat coiling in her hips. He was wearing far too many clothes as far as she was concerned, and she wrapped a hand into his shirt, tugging wordlessly.

Withdrawing his thumb, he moved up over her and pulled his shirt off, running a hand along her cheek. “Look at you,” he breathed, his tone awestruck. She leaned back to lie on the bed and he followed the movement, lowering his head and running his tongue along the sheer fabric of the bra, the contact sending a surge of electricity straight to her hips. “Fucking perfect. I can't even decide what I want to do first.” A hand was tweaking her other nipple and she moaned under him, running her hands along his shoulders.

“Please,” she breathed.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, voice low.

She briefly felt that usual surge of embarrassment but decided that today, she wanted to be bold. Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked down at him, drawing her legs up around his hips. “I want you to fuck me.”

She could've sworn that she saw his pupils dilate at her words, breath becoming ragged. “Pretty sure I should get you off first.”

“No.” She put a hand to his hair, letting her fingers run through the soft strands. “I want you to fuck me.”

"I want you to be ready-”

“Jacob,” she said, starting to feel a bit impatient. “I have been thinking about this for over a week now.” She could feel the stickiness on her thighs and she took his hand, sliding it between her legs and under the fabric, pressing two of his fingers against her entrance, sighing with pleasure as they slid in easily. “I'm ready. Fuck. Me.”

“Jesus,” he breathed. “So bossy.” She squirmed as she realized he was scissoring his fingers, trying to stretch her, prepare her for something much bigger. It was too much and entirely not enough all at once when she felt a third finger push in, pressing steadily. “So impatient.”

"Please," she moaned, trying to move against his hand, "please-”

He smothered her words with a kiss as she scrabbled at his jeans, popping the button and sliding the zipper down. Palming his cock through his pants, she heard him hiss in a breath through his teeth.

He gently pulled his hand away and tugged her panties down, following it by sliding his jeans and boxers off in a smooth movement. When she reached towards him, he slid his hands around  her back and unhooked her bra, dragging it off her arms. “It's pretty,” he murmured, “but I like seeing you bare.”

They moved up to the middle of the bed, his larger body practically caging hers underneath him. She went to try and stroke him, but he grabbed her wrist, holding her at bay.

“This is already probably going to be fairly short,” he said, sounding a bit strained. “Let's not make it worse.”

She giggled at him and pulled him down for a kiss instead, parting her lips, sucking his tongue into her mouth. He was grinding against her again, his cock hot and slick, just teasing, just barely pushing into her. The anticipation was building like static electricity, ready to snap against her at any moment. Lying back on the pillows, she twitched her hips at him, trying to encourage him. “Please, Jacob-”

He looked punch drunk. “I have condoms in my bag- and some lube-”

The words slowly drifted through the fog in her brain, taking a while to settle. “… What? Do we need either of those?”

He swallowed. “Well I don't know how careful you want to be, and I don't want to hurt you-“

The surge of emotion was as powerful as it was unexpected. This was all so confusing- and in many ways, incredibly fucked up- and there he was, in the middle of it all, trying to be a gentleman. She tugged him down for another kiss, and when he pulled away, she gave him the softest smile she could manage. “The IUD is enough. Unless you have herpes and you haven't told me.”

He laughed at that. “No, no chance to have gotten anything, I'm afraid.”

“As for the lube…” She tucked her hips lower against him, heartbeat speeding as she nudged a little bit more of him inside. God, it was big- she had to wave away a little flutter of nerves. “Does it feel like we need it?”

“Not really,” he agreed, sounding a bit strangled.

“Well then,” she breathed. “What are you waiting for?”

Closing his eyes and smiling, he nodded, the movement almost rueful. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, moved a hand to her hip, and gently started to push.

Oh, dear God. It felt a bit like being pinched, except somehow in reverse, the intrusion slick and hot. She tried to relax, ease the muscles in her stomach, but it was all so _much_ and every time she thought that surely, now, he was finished, there would be another little stretch, another little push-

His hips finally bumped against hers and she let out a little shuddering breath.

“You okay?” He was searching her face, looking worried.

“It’s a lot more than fingers,” she managed.

There was a flash of male pride that he quickly wiped off his face. “We can stop?”

“No,” she said instantly, “don't stop.”

With a deep breath, he pulled out slowly, pressing in again at that same excruciating pace. By the fourth or fifth stroke, she was starting to feel an undertone of something different, an aching sort of pleasure that raced through her body. She dug her nails into his shoulders, finally starting to move herself, pushing her hips up to meet him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, eyelids fluttering. “So tight, Evie, fuck.”

The pain had almost completely subsided now, replaced by a sort of ravenous hunger that stretched through her whole body. “More,” she moaned out, enjoying the way it made his breath hitch.

She hooked her ankles around him as he sped up, tangling a hand in his hair and gasping with each thrust. She couldn't do more than risk a glance at his face, his eyes were so intense and searching; instead, she focused on his chest, with that delicious little trail of hair, his arms, muscular and solid beside her, his broad shoulders moving under her hands.

His voice was strained. “This feel good?”

God, yes. “So good, please-”

She felt his self control fall away as he started to fuck her in earnest, each stroke hard and sweet, painful in such a perfect way, new and strange and she was so glad that she was learning this with him, that she felt so safe and beautiful and ravished all at once-

“Evie,” his breathing stuttered and he tucked his head against the crook of her shoulder, the snap of his hips becoming irregular, “fuck, I'm sorry, I'm-”

“Come in me,” she breathed.

He made a desperate noise and gave a few last hard thrusts, each one forcing a gasp from her, his body slumping on top of her when he finally stilled with a shuddering sigh.

She felt something leak against her thigh, warm and wet.

“S’ sorry,” he slurred. “That was fast and- and you didn't even come-”

She wondered if a giggle would hurt his pride. Instead, she reached around and patted him on the back. “We still have lots of time- I'm sure I will before the weekend is over.”

He nuzzled into her ear with a happy sound. “As many times as you can manage, I promise.”

\---

She was curled against his chest, shoulders rising and falling as she breathed. The afternoon light was peeking around the edge of the curtains. They would have to go look for food soon, but for now, it was nice to just lie together, not having to listen for someone coming home or for footsteps in the hallway.

From his position, slightly propped up on the bed, he could see where _that_ bra was tossed on the floor.

Christ. When she'd first come out in that, he thought he was going to have a heart attack. She looked like a pin-up girl had wandered off the page.

She turned slightly. “I think I'm going to take a bath, do you want to join me?”

Did he ever. “Sure.”

Once the water was high enough, they crowded in, her back against his chest as she sat between his legs. He moved his hands to her shoulders, rubbing in small circles against the tense muscles, enjoying how she sighed happily and relaxed against him.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and breathed in her sweet scent. The words came out before he had time to even think about them, sneaking from his lips in a whisper. “I love you.”

For a fraction of a second, he froze in fear, worried that he had somehow overstepped-

“I love you too,” she said, easily, naturally, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The number of hits that this is getting has me frankly disappointed in all of you, but mostly in myself.

They eventually left to go find food. When he first reached for her hand, she nearly flinched away out of habit; it was a glorious feeling to remember that here, they were anonymous. She leaned into his arm for the whole walk, smiling as their breaths created little puffs in the air.

They shared a packet of fish and chips, huddled closely on a bench overlooking the main street. The fish was delicious, warm in her stomach, and she was licking the salt and vinegar off her fingers when she caught him staring.

“What, do you want me to clean yours off too?” She reached out and took his hand, daintily sucking the tips into her mouth.

He made a plaintive sort of noise.

She pulled away and laughed. “Men. You make it so easy.”

“You're not so immune yourself,” he grumbled.  

She took another chip. “Yeah?”

His breath was hot on her ear, his grip tight. “All I have to do is tell you how much I want to be inside you again- how I want you to scream my name as you come on my dick.”

Ok, maybe he had a point. The words _did_ make her chest grow tight, her hips go warm. But two could play at that game. “It doesn't matter how much you try and tease, because I can top it all with…” She counted in her head. “Four words.”

“Yeah? Go on then.”

Leaning in close, until they were almost pressed together in a kiss, she gave him a slow smile. “Ballerinas are _very_ flexible.”

The paper from the fish and chips crumpled in his hand. “Are you ready to go? I'm ready to go. Let's go, shall we?” He stood and held his hand out to her as she laughed, carefree, all too ready to head back to the hotel.

\---

This time, he was determined to do things right.

She had been nice about that first round, but frankly, he wasn’t sure if he deserved it- between her lack of orgasm and the way he finished almost immediately, his pride was a bit wounded.

Back in the hotel, he scooped her up in the hallway and carried her over the threshold, grinning as she had to duck to avoid bonking her head.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not romantic if I get wounded.”

It was easy to properly toss her onto the bed in retaliation, given how big the damned thing was. As she laughed, he carefully, tenderly, unlaced her boots and pulled them off her feet, setting them neatly aside. Next, he leisurely peeled her socks off, pressing a slow kiss to the arch of each foot as she giggled, ever ticklish. Climbing over her with a grin, he unpicked the buttons of her coat, easing it off her shoulders, nuzzling against both curves of her neck once he could see the white skin of her shoulders.

“Hurry up,” she breathed, voice shaky.

“Patience,” he murmured, easing her up to tug her jumper and shirt off in one motion, pressing kisses down her front.

God, that bra. He could see just a hint of dusky pink through the black lace, good enough to eat. As he licked, swirling his tongue, her breath hitched higher and higher, her wriggling growing more pronounced under his mouth. There would be no bites today; just soft, sweet, kisses until she was a melting puddle in his hands.

Which looked it was going to happen fairly quickly.

He switched nipples and she wound a hand in his hair, trying to push him down. Ignoring her pointedly, he held firm, only slipping down her front when she gave up and let go. He was in charge now. 

Her jeans came off fairly easily, given that she was practically shoving them down by the time he got there. He spent a while working over the lace again, mostly because he could, and because it seemed to be driving her mad in the best possible way. When he finally slid the damp fabric off, she was begging incoherently, one continuous series of beautiful ‘please’ sounds and moans. Each one made his cock twitch in his pants, and he had to give a few quick rubs through the fabric to try and take off the worst of the edge- he could wait. He _would_ wait.

Refocusing, he gave her clit a flick and she jumped. “Let's see this famous flexibility then.”

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her legs up and up until they were nearly parallel with her head. Almost despite himself, he was impressed.

“Useful,” he murmured, and she made a desperate noise. “Can you hold them there?”

“Yes,” she said instantly, almost a little scornful. As if it was hardly a question worth asking.

“Good,” he chuckled, before he nuzzled down and started with a long, slow lick.

She wanted more, he could tell, she wanted fast and hard and rough. But he was determined, as before, to go slowly; he alternated between swipes and swirls, quick sucks and open mouthed kisses, really taking the time to note the reaction to each movement and its impact. For once in their lives, they had all the time in the world. 

“Jacob,” she shuddered, lifting herself a little. “Please-”

He popped his head up. “Oh, you want to enjoy the view? Why didn’t you say?” Leaning over, he yanked a few of the pillows over to prop up her back, grinning wickedly at her blushing confusion.  

She let go of her legs and gradually let them descend into the splits as she settled back at an angle. Damn, that really _was_ impressive. “That's not exactly what I…”

The rest of her words were lost to choked sounds when he returned to his work with enthusiasm, humming to show his pleasure for her benefit. When he peered up, he saw round eyes fixed on him, her face flushed red, her mouth open and quivering. Fucking beautiful.

By the time he slid his fingers into her, she almost sounded like she was in tears, ragged breaths combined with little mewling sounds of pleasure. It was time, he decided, to finally try and hurry things along a bit- he could feel sticky precome leaking in his boxers, and he was so hard that it almost sort of hurt.

It didn't take long. As he pumped his fingers, her sounds changed in pitch until her legs suddenly snapped down and around his neck. She came completely silently, her mouth open but her throat apparently paralyzed, her back arching off the mattress in an incredible curve- it seemed to finish just as quickly, as she collapsed down against the mattress once more. 

He rocked back on his heels, jaw a bit sore, but pleased. “Good?”

She responded by yanking him up by his jumper onto the bed, dragging his jeans and boxers down past his hips in ragged movements, and straddling him to sink down onto his cock with almost no warning.

Oh _fuck_ yes. 

They moaned in unison, his sound almost a growl, their satisfaction mixing in the still air. It was much easier for him to slide all the way in this time; she was still tight, but she was _much_ wetter. It made him vaguely wish she'd let him go down on her the first time around, before she started to move and all thoughts were wiped from his mind entirely.  

She was grinding against him, leaning on her knees, head thrown back and tits bouncing like the best fucking porno that he could possibly imagine. “Jacob,” she pleaded, his name getting stretched out into a plaintive sound, “Jacob-”

Her fingers were yanking so tightly at the fabric of his jumper that he was pretty sure it was ruined, but he didn't give a damn. “Does that feel good, love?”

“So good,” she breathed, rocking her hips back and forth now, chasing something that he couldn't see. “It feels so _fucking_ good, Jacob-”

Wow, okay, so that was new. And hot. Super hot. He palmed a breast and tightened his fingers on a nipple as she worked over him, tight and hot and wet. “You feel pretty fucking great yourself.”

Her eyes were closed now, face scrunched up, every part of her tensing and shaking. “Jacob- _Jacob_ -“

Unless he was very mistaken, that was a good sign. He reached down to tentatively rub at her clit, whispering into the air as gently as he could, “come on, Evie, come for me again, I want to see your face as you come-”

That did it. She fucking _wailed_ as the second one hit her, cunt pulsing, legs shaking, getting so tight all at once that for a moment he thought he might go blind. Her hands scrabbled against him as he gave her a few good thrusts to try and help it along, her cries becoming jagged and broken with each movement of his hips. The sheer satisfaction of knowing that he'd made her come- _twice_ \- was enough to give him another heady rush of arousal, snapping through him like lightning. 

Finally finished, she held herself rigid for a few seconds before she flopped onto him, her moan long and satisfied.

Which meant it was his turn, thank God, because he needed to move from this gentler pace to proper _fucking_ , and he needed to do it _now_. 

Rolling on top of her and shuffling off the side of the bed, he yanked her until her legs were hanging off the edge, her loose hair trailing behind her on the coverlet, surrounding her head like a cloud. Lying on her back, she blinked at him with languid eyes, small smile on her lips, inviting, sensuous. Hooking her ankles against his shoulders, he pushed back into her, taking a few thrusts to get his bearings before he starting pounding as fast as he could, fucking her into the mattress with all of his strength as his belt rattled around his calves. Her eyes practically rolled into the back of her head at the force of it, her hands wrapping into the coverlet tightly, little broken sounds of pleasure and delight tearing from her throat.

When the orgasm surged- still quick, but hell, there was only so much he could do- he let it happen, let it draw up and take over. Hunching over her, he gripped her hips and sucked in deep breath after deep breath as he came harder than he was pretty sure he'd ever come before in his life, the satisfaction of it so primal and raw that he almost roared.

His legs nearly fucking gave out when it ended. Collapsing on top of her, he waited for his brain to gradually collect itself as she stroked his hair, the touch of her hand soft and gentle.

“Wow,” she finally breathed into the silence, voice shaky.

“Wow,” he agreed, heart pounding fit to burst.

\---

They snuck in one last romp before it was time to leave the next morning, heading back to the train dishevelled and happy.

She nudged him with her foot on the ride home. “I don’t know how we’re going to go back to days of not being able to touch each other again.”

“Not my favourite,” he agreed. “But, hey, not long before we move away from home, right?”

They hadn't spoken about this before, even though it loomed large in her mind. “What…” she trailed off. “What happens then?”

He looked out the window thoughtfully. “You’ll be going off to uni. I have no plans; I’ll just follow you. We can get a place.”

It was deliciously tempting. A little flat somewhere, for just the two of them. They could be together exactly as they pleased, never having to worry about prying eyes or opening doors. “But I don’t even know where I’m going yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged and grinned at her. “Don’t really care as long as you’re there- I waited too long to have you, I’ll just enjoy it for a little while.”

There was that welling emotion again, making her chest feel so full that it almost hurt. “You make it sound so easy.”

His smile got wider, handsome and charming enough to make her breath catch in her throat. “Because it is, Evie. Because it is.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was going to be a smidge of plot in this chapter and instead I just wrote 3,500 of filthy dirty talking smut, SO Y'ALL ENJOY

They had been back home for almost a week when he popped into her doorway one morning, grinning like an idiot.

She paused from pulling up her socks to raise an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Given our limited one-on-one time, I got you a present.” He passed her a small box.

Tilting her head at him, she opened it. Inside, there was a small and compact bent vibrator, one designed to gently squeeze the clit and G-spot at once. She blinked at it very slowly, picking it up in her hand and turning it around. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly serious,” he replied. “And look, watch.” He pulled out his mobile and fiddled with it for a moment, and the vibrator began to gently buzz in her palm.

Sweet mercy. “Oh,” she said dumbly, taking in the remote-controlled implications.

He tucked a finger under her chin, moving her gaze back to him. “I want you to wear it today.”

“Today?” But- today was school, she had classes all day, and there was tutoring in the afternoon-

“Today,” he said firmly, gently tracing her lip with his thumb. He plucked it from her hand and moved it up her thigh, under her skirt, until he was tracing the fabric of her knickers with the vibrating toy. She was already feeling a bit lightheaded, but the contact sent blood rushing to all the right places; she wrapped her fingers in his jumper as he chuckled, clearly pleased with her reaction.

Tucking the fabric aside, he pushed it into place. It went in distressingly easily, considering that she’d been stone-cold calm less than two minutes ago.

 _Oh_ , that was nice. Very nice. Almost too nice.

With a few quick taps to his mobile, he deactivated it, leaving her a bit breathless. “There we go.”

She squirmed around the intrusion, unfamiliar and heavy. “But- if you’re going to turn it off, then why-”

“Oh, it won’t be off all day.” He leaned forward to peck her on the cheek. “Trust me.”

\---

He had been fiddling with the settings on and off throughout the morning. For an hour, he tried a slow, low buzz; for the next hour, he left it off entirely, trusting that the suspense of it would be almost as excruciating.

Shortly before lunch, he pulled his mobile out under his desk and set it to an alternating rhythm with a few quick taps. Staring at his phone for a moment, he turned up the intensity.

Less than a minute later, his screen lit up with a call from her.

Excusing himself to go to the loos, he waited until he was tucked in a private corner to pick up. “Hello?”

“You _asshole_ ,” she hissed, an angry cat in her distress. “I was in _physics_ , I had to ask to leave class to go to the toilet- turn it off right this instant!”

He grinned and relaxed against the wall. “Oh, oh right. So sorry. One moment.” Minimizing the conversation, he pulled up the app, and dialled up the intensity another two notches.

Even with his phone away from his head, he could hear her frantic squeal. “You- you bastard dickhead sonuva _bitch!_ ”

“You know we have the same Mother, right?” With a swipe of his finger, he changed the rhythm to a steady one and lowered the speed a bit, enjoying the way that she moaned into the phone.

“I can’t study like this,” she panted.

He considered it. “You can take it out, if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“But there will be punishment if you do.”

She made a strangled noise. “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t make the rules.” He stopped to laugh. “Oh, wait, I do.” Frankly, he didn’t care which decision she went with- either way was a win for him.

Her fury was perfect. “I’m going to _kill_ you.”

The line went dead. Shaking his head, he left the vibrator turned on and went back to class.

\---

When he picked her up, she looked a lot less composed than she usually did, the colour high in her cheeks. She clutched him particularly tightly as they drove home, knees clenched against his thighs.

Once inside, she pressed him to the wall in the front hallway and practically attacked him with a kiss, frantically grabbing his hand and shoving it under her skirt.

“Whoa, whoa,” he managed, holding her away. “So what happened?”

“I-” she hesitated. “I couldn’t keep it in for class,” she said, tone pleading. “But the breaks, and lunch, and after, I did.” She was pressing kisses all over his face, breathless and adorable in her eagerness. “So I did as you asked.”

Hmm. He looked up at the ceiling. “I don't think that counts.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?”

“Yeah, no, that definitely doesn't cut it.” He tugged her head aside and lightly bit down on her earlobe, sliding a hand under her shirt. “I seem to remember you promising that you would obey from now on- I think you need another lesson.”

Her face was turning pink. “You- I- you-”

There was the slam of a car door just outside. Father, home early. They leapt apart, Evie hurrying away to her room while he tried to adjust the wood in his trousers to be a touch less noticeable.

“Jacob,” Father greeted him as he came through the door, looking as tired as he always did of late. “Good day?”

“Excellent,” he agreed.

\---

Much later that night, there was a knock on his door, soft and tentative. Evie crept in, clad in a tank top and sleep shorts, reaching for him with a smile. “Father’s passed out again,” she whispered.

“Perfect,” he murmured. “Here for your lesson?”

She froze and frowned. “You're not still going on about that.”

“Going on about- damn right, I'm going on about it. I asked you to do something, and you disobeyed.”

Sniffing, she turned up her nose. “You're being unreasonable.”

“Not at all,” he said calmly. “When you're ready, we’ll begin, but if that's not what you're here for…” He gave her a little wave. “Have a good night.”

Huffing, she stomped out of the room.

The next day, she determinedly ignored him, refusing to answer his questions or texts. Later in the evening, just as he was debating going out- given that nothing seemed to be happening here- she knocked on his door.

When she came in, she had her bathrobe on, her hair still damp from the shower. The sweet smell of her shampoo wafted across the room, effectively short circuiting his brain as he breathed in soap and strawberries.

Striding over purposefully, she gave him a slow smile before she peeled the robe off, revealing that fucking hot lingerie from their weekend away; as he blinked at her, mind suddenly blank, she slid down his front onto her knees, tugging at the band of his sweatpants-

“Hang on,” he managed, shaking his head a bit foggily. “Are you trying to seduce me into forgetting about yesterday?”

She turned flaming red. “Is it… is it working?”

He couldn't help it; he started to laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear with a fond smile. “It's hot as hell, but you don't get out of it that easy, I'm sorry.”

She pouted and lowered her face, so he leaned down to stroke her chin, smiling as she hopefully looked back up at him.

In an instant, he tightened his grip, digging his fingers into her skin. “So are you ready to beg for forgiveness?”

She jumped to her feet, tucking her robe back around her body, actually stomping on the carpet like a child. “You are _infuriating!_ ”

And in a whirl, she was gone.

Sitting back down at his desk, Jacob sighed, spinning his pen in his fingers. She wasn't actually upset, was the thing. If she was genuinely afraid, he would’ve stopped in an instant. One time, when they were nine, they both climbed up to go on a tall water slide; once they were at the top, she panicked, breaking into tears about how it was too high and too much. When he thought about it, he was pretty sure it was the only time he'd ever seen her truly afraid.

If he had seen even a flicker of that panic in their new arrangement, he would've backtracked so fast that it left dust clouds in his wake. But this didn't feel like that. Instead, it felt like she was testing him, pushing the boundaries to see what she could get away with.

Plus, there was the fact that- in the end- Evie _never_ did something that she didn't want to do.

The next day was a repeat of her frosty silence. Later in the evening, he was about to leave to go see his friends when her head poked out of her bedroom door.

Her expression was… Irritated, to put it mildly. “Going somewhere?”

“Out,” he said simply.

She chewed on her lip, brow furrowed, before she marched down the hall, grabbed his arm, and dragged him back into his room.

Her gaze was trained on his feet, her brow furrowed and her hands clenched. She mumbled something. It was too quiet to catch in its entirety, but he was pretty sure the word ‘punishment’ was in there somewhere.

“Sorry?” He prompted. “Didn't catch that?”

She took a deep breath and ground out the words. “I'm ready for my punishment.”

Hot damn. Moving slowly, he crowded her against the door, leaning down to bite at her neck. “Say it again.”

Her voice was weaker this time, almost whispered. “I'm ready for my punishment.”

He felt like crowing with glee. “Why do you have to be punished?”

She shifted, and he was sure that she could feel the raging hard-on he was now pressing against her hip. “Because I disobeyed.”

“We don't have to, you know,” he murmured. “I'm quite happy to go out and leave you to your own devices.”

Her arms encircled him, clutching at his back. “Please don't.”

“You'll listen?”

“I will.”

“You promise?”

She took a deep and shuddering breath. “I promise.”

“Okay.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Our dearest Father is awake and quite coherent at the moment, so it can't be tonight, I'm afraid.”

She let out a little pitiful noise of distress.

“I know, I know, I'm disappointed too. But tomorrow. Can you wait until tomorrow?”

There was a trembling moment of silence. Finally, she nodded against his shoulder.

“Wonderful,” he breathed. “But I'll need you to do something for me.”

\---

Of _course_ he would demand that she wear that infernal thing again. She ought to have denied him. She ought to have turned him down, called him unreasonable, and put her study as her first priority.

But three lonely nights had worn her down.

The vibrator worked at a steady hum all day, enough to be distracting but not enough to offer any kind of relief. The urge to reach down and touch herself was maddening, but she had promised she wouldn’t, so instead she just clenched her hands until her nails dug little crescent moons into her palms.

She couldn’t remember anything that was covered in class, or that might have been discussed by her friends. At multiple points throughout the day, people stopped and asked her if she was feeling quite all right. Yes, she stammered, of course. Just tired.

Jacob texted her periodically. _Still being good?_

 _Yes_ , she texted back. _Yes, yes, yes._

She somehow got to the end of the school day. Jacob gave her a cheery wave when she met him outside. All she could manage was a weak nod, which just made him smile harder. Bastard. Handsome, sexy bastard.

This would all be much easier if she didn't enjoy it so damn much. 

The ride itself seemed to take forever, and the walk from the bike to their front door felt like an age. Over the threshold, she reached for him, but he stepped away. “Go upstairs,” he murmured, pressing his fingers to her lips. “My room. Strip. Down to nothing- actually, no, keep the knee socks on, but nothing else. Wait on the bed.”

Closing her eyes, she nodded, plodding slowly up the stairs, each rub of her thighs more torturous than the last.

She left her things on a crumpled heap on his floor. Lying on the covers, wondering what it was that he liked about the socks so much, she crossed her legs tightly and desperately resisted the urge to relieve the ache with her fingers.

Before long, the door creaked open and he stepped in. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Take your hair down.”

She tugged the braids out as he went to his closet and pulled out a pristine looking tie. Extended relatives had a habit of sending them for Christmas, clearly not knowing that Jacob would only wear a tie in a casket. Or _possibly_ for his own wedding.

He nudged her into sitting up and then off the bed; walking her to the desk, he pulled out his chair and sat, motioning for her to turn around. In brisk movements he bound her wrists together behind her back, her heartbeat speeding with anticipation as the soft fabric tightened. He turned her again when he was done. “Gorgeous,” he said, giving her nipple a flick that made her jump. “Love the way that makes your tits pop.”

With a hand on her shoulder, he pressed down until she knelt, leaning back to peer at him.

Undoing his belt, he looked her up and down. “So tell me, did you come today?”

“No,” she said, hating how plaintively it came out. “Almost, twice.”

“What happened?”

“The first time, the vibrator stopped right before I could.” She had nearly wailed in frustration right in the middle of class. “The second time, someone bumped into me in the hallway and it threw it off.”

He pulled out his cock and gave it a few long, lazy strokes. “But you never took it out?”

“No,” she said immediately, edge of desperation in her voice. “Never.”

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, the words sending another shot of heat through her. “Come here.”

She shuffled towards him awkwardly, carpet scratchy under her knees.

Reaching into his pocket, he drew out his mobile. In moments, the vibrator buzzed into a racing pitch, easing and speeding, easing and speeding. He chuckled as she cried out, instinctively wriggling back and forth to try and get away from the abrupt stimulation.

“Here's what's going to happen,” he said evenly. “This stays on until I finish. Understand?” She tried to lean forward, but he held her at an arm's length. "And snap your fingers if everything needs to stop, and it stops in an instant, got it?"

Nodding frantically, she bumped her forehead against the fabric of his jumper before awkwardly taking him into her mouth, pushing her head down as deeply as she could. With a bit of practice, she could now go almost until her nose brushed the curling hair at the base, hollowing her cheeks and breathing through her nose.

She tried to keep her strokes smooth and steady, but it was difficult with the vibrations rocking her hips. The long day had left her overstimulated; the first orgasm hit her almost immediately and with no warning, making her let out a strangled noise around his cock. As it eased, the vibrations picked up again, mixing quivering pleasure with tingling pain.

“Mm,” he hummed, tilting his head back and winding a hand in her hair. “Was that the first one?”

She nodded, moaning, until he let her pull away. “Please, it's too much, let me-”

“Not a chance,” he said, pushing her head back down.

Every few thrusts, he would nudge the back of her throat, making her gag; each time, he would draw back and let her take a shuddering breath before resuming, fucking into her mouth with a fierceness that made her tremble.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice strained. “You look so fucking good with my cock in your pretty mouth.”

It was happening again, a tingling surge racing through her body, but it was too soon after the first- when it hit, it sat just on the razor’s edge of pain, delicious and terrible and everything and nothing all at once. When she keened, he moaned as well, apparently feeling the sound in her mouth. As the shocks subsided, she was so raw that it felt like she could feel every pump of blood in her hips, every brush of air that touched her skin.

She peered up at him, eyes watering, and he drew in another shuddering breath. “That feel good, love?”

 _It's so much_ , she wanted to say, _it feels good but it's so much, please, please-_

They weren't even really orgasms any more, just showers of sparks that were concentrated tightly between her legs, making her writhe and moan as she tried to keep bobbing her head rhythmically. They blended together until she lost count, unable to think, unable to breathe, lost in them as they wracked her body-

His fingers tightened in her hair and he gripped her still as he came in spurts down her throat, salty and warm. Gasping, he drew away and fumbled for his mobile as she swallowed, and in moments everything was mercifully still.

She crumpled against the floor, twitching, and he let out a dark chuckle. “Good?”

“Help,” she mumbled sleepily, half a smile plastered on her face. “I can't feel my legs.” Her whole lower half felt vaguely numb, though in a pleasant and tingly sort of way.

Laughing, he stood and gripped her shoulders, bracing her to her feet and guiding her towards the bed. “We’re not done.”

When she reached it, she slumped down, falling face-first. He pulled her hips up until she was bent at the knees, exposed to him, distressingly vulnerable with her bound wrists. Gently, slowly, he removed the vibrator, making her heave a deep and relieved sigh into the mattress.

“What a sight,” he said quietly. “I wish I could save this- actually, you know what, I think I will.”

He stood and retrieved his phone as she blinked at him sleepily. “But I- what-” Sexy photos seemed a bit risky, but her risk assessment was a little off-kilter at the moment. I'll address that later, she thought hazily. 

“Relax, your face isn’t in it.” Apparently done, he tossed the mobile back aside. In efficient movements, he stripped off his clothes, revealing all that delicious muscle and skin as she watched. Climbing behind her, he put his hands on her hips. “Now, what do you want?”

“Please fuck me,” she slurred. God, she was beyond ready.

“Where?” He traced a finger along the cleft of her ass. “So many pretty holes to choose from.”

“My- my-” Damn him, _damn_ him. “Why do you always make me say it?” she whined.

She could hear his grin. “Because you hate it so much.”

“Shitheel,” she muttered.

There was a sharp slap to her ass, making her yelp. “Watch your attitude, woman, or I'll put the toy back in.”

Oh no, no no no. “Sorry,” she said quickly, “sorry, please don't.”

He soothed down the smack, rubbing his thumb in small circles. “Be good, and I won't. So you were saying?”

Groaning, she pushed her face into the pillow. “Please fuck me in my- my cunt.”

He yanked her head up. “Can't hear you.”

“God, fine! I want your dick in my cunt, please, Jacob!”

He rewarded her with a solid _fuck_ of a thrust, making her yelp happily as she stretched around him. God bless teenage boys and their quick refractory period. His breath was hot on her back, his fingers tightening on her waist. “Was that so hard?”

It was hard to properly meet his thrusts with her hands bound, but she tried anyway, rocking back and forth as best she could. “Please-” she moaned, desperate, hungry for him, trying to swivel her hips.

“Oh Evie,” he sighed happily, tracing his fingers down her back and making her shiver. “If only they could see you now. Top of the class, teacher’s pet, team captain- tied up and loving it, absolutely begging to be fucked.”

She managed a grin over her shoulder. “If only they could see _you_ \- tough guy Jacob, buying flowers and chocolates like a lovesick-”

“ _Enough_ ,” he snarled, thrusting so roughly that she gasped and skidded forward a little on the mattress. “I don't feel like you're really getting the point of this punishment, do you?”

He pulled out of her and she frowned, turning to try and see what was happening; he shoved her head back down roughly, and she squirmed as she felt him press the vibrator back in. “Oh no- no no no, please no, I can’t-” It buzzed to life and she kicked her heels frantically, socks scraping against the mattress. The break was enough that she wasn't sore any more, but it was still overwhelming, tingling spreading from her hips right down to the tips of her toes, the remnants of too many orgasms still racing through her body.

“Think about that next time,” he growled, before he pushed back in _beside_ the vibrator and oh _God_   she was so tender and everything felt so _good_ and raw and oh God- oh God-

She had to bite down on the pillow to stop from screaming bloody murder as she came. Her whole body trembled at the impact, Jacob relentless as he pounded into her, pressing a hand between her shoulder blades as he fucked her into the mattress.

Words became impossible as he thrusted, over and over and over until the passage of time became meaningless, until there was nothing but the sheets under her fingers and Jacob inside of her, filling her perfectly like they were meant to fit together this way, like they were never meant to stop, no matter the consequences. All she could do was feel- distantly, she could tell that she was making a series of breathy noises, but she couldn't have said if she was trying to speak or just wordlessly trying to express the ecstasy of being fucked senseless.

His breathing gradually became ragged until he finished again with a few last, powerful thrusts, spilling into her with a grunt as she keened. As he withdrew, he reached down pulled out the vibrator as well, leaving her jelly-limbed and shaking on the bed, stretching out to press her burning hips against the cool and soft sheets.

Untying her, he rubbed the blood back into her wrists, pulling her against his chest and pressing soft kisses to her neck. “Lesson learned, I think?”

She just nestled back into him, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“So that thing was worth every penny, right?” Jacob murmured, laughing as she made a mock-outraged noise, grinning and twisting to swat him with a pillow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google research informs me that such vibrators are absolutely real, can be controlled via an app by a person on another _continent_ , and are designed to be used both alone and during sex. In case, like, you wondered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this??? PLOT???? Clearly there has been some sort of mistake. 
> 
> Also, by the current plan, we're now halfway through this flaming pile of garbage. ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪♬

 

Jacob found himself thinking of her often.

Partly about her body, that went without saying. The long legs, the slim waist, the full breasts- all of that occupied a fairly significant part of his mental day. The surprising thing was that he also spent a lot of time just vaguely wondering how she was doing. If she'd finished the project she'd been working on so diligently the night before. If she'd won the field hockey match that she was nervous about. If she would like a funny picture that he saw on Reddit.

It wasn't that he hadn't been interested in her life before. It was just as though someone had taken the “Evie” dial in his head and turned it up to 11. It almost made him sorry that he hadn’t bothered to try and go to St. Animus as well, but then he remembered the posh pricks that made up most of the student body other than her and was less sorry.

On break, he was fiddling with his mobile yet again and wondering if it was too clingy to text her for a third time in a row when someone said hello to him. He vaguely lifted his hand with a “hey”, so focused on his thoughts about Evie that he didn't even look up from the screen.

When he finally put his mobile down, Ned and Agnes were staring at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“That was _cold_ ,” Agnes said, looking vaguely impressed.

“Huh?”

Ned snorted. “Did you not even notice? Holly’s been trying to get your attention for weeks. She was going full giggle and smile and you literally didn’t give her the time of day.”

He was starting to feel a bit defensive. “I'm not interested, that's all.”

Agnes chewed thoughtfully. “Are you ever gonna actually let us meet the girl that has you so goddamn smitten? You're like a preteen girl, it’s incredible. I want to give her a medal for doing a better job of making you look like an eejit than all of our years of effort combined.”

“Fuck off,” Jacob muttered. “And not in a million years.”

\---

With class over, she was able to pull out her mobile, smiling at two new message notifications from Jacob. She’d spent the whole lecture itching to check to see if he had gotten in touch. She’d used to have such good self-control when it came to texting in class. He had a way of absolutely obliterating that self-control, and it was almost unnerving. She just wanted to _hear_ from him, even if it was a stupid link from Reddit. Which she always vaguely enjoyed, though she’d never admit it.

Throughout her lunch break, they texted back and forth; even though it was about nothing of real value, it made her feel flush and happy, a fullness in her chest that felt like it was glowing.

It was getting close to class time when he sent _cant wait to see u_.

She grinned. _I can't wait either. I've got plans._

The reply was immediate. _What plans?_

Moving into the hallway, she walked along until she came to an empty corner. Lifting her phone, she put two fingers in her mouth, hollowed her cheeks, closed her eyes, and took a selfie to send by way of answer.

She tapped her foot in the hallway until he responded. _Jfc woman_.

Giggling, she was about to move along when he sent an image. He was sitting down somewhere, but in his lap, there was the clear outline of an erection in his trousers. _This is what u do to me. Im supposed to be somewhere in ten minutes dammit._

 _I'm lucky mine doesn't show so easily,_ she responded.

His reply was prompt. _U will have to figure out how to show me._

Biting her lip, she glanced around. She still had a little time before class. There was a storage closet right down the hall- she would have a little privacy there. Quickly letting herself in, she lifted her skirt and took a picture of her hand in her knickers; sending it, she followed it with a picture of her fingers held closer to the light, where the sheen of wetness was clearly visible.

His reply was straightforward. _Fuck._

She could practically hear the word whispered in her ear, in that low tone full of promise that he saved for these situations. It gave her a delicious shiver. _Something for you to look forward to. I wish I didn't have to wait._

 _Then dont._ She should've seen that coming, she supposed. _Get urself off now._

_I have class._

Was it possible for someone to smirk over text? _Better b quick then._

Just thinking about that smug attitude got her heart rate going. Clearly, there was something wrong with her. Or, well, clearly multiple things were wrong with her, but the list seemed to keep getting longer all the time. That didn't stop her from shuffling against a cabinet and putting her hand back down her knickers. _I wish you were here._

_I would pin u to the wall and fuck u until the whole school could hear u scream._

It was tricky to type one-handed, but she managed. _I want it._

_Maybe ill insist you cum twice before going back to class._

Oh God but that did things to her, forced a little moan from her throat, pushed her immediately closer-

The door handle of the closet turned.

Clamping down a panicked gasp, she yanked her hand out of her knickers and shoved her skirt down, quickly closing the chat on her mobile. She barely had a moment to blink before Mr. Green was standing in the doorway.

She tried to seem calm, but she knew how this must look, oh God, what if he'd heard her, how the room must _smell_ -

“Miss Frye,” he snapped. “My office. Now.”

\---

It was worrying when she abruptly disappeared.

Jacob checked his mobile obsessively all day, but no alerts from her ever popped up on his screen. He even sent a few apologies, wondering if he had somehow overstepped. There was nothing but radio silence.

By the end of the day, he was definitely worried. This wasn’t like her. When he tried to call her, it rang to voicemail, so it wasn’t like her mobile was just out of batteries.

He waited in their usual spot for pick up, but as the students slowly filtered out, she was nowhere to be found. Just when he was about to start looking for her, she came down the steps, shoulders hunched and eyes red-rimmed. Panic surged in his throat and he closed the distance to her with a few long steps, pulling her into a stiff hug. “What's wrong? What happened?”

She clamped her eyes shut. “We’ll talk once we’re home.”

In the safety of their kitchen, he made them both tea, pouring hers into her favourite cat mug. When he sat beside her, he took her hand and gripped it tightly, trying to convey a thousand words of reassurance with a squeeze. “So what happened?”

“I…” She sniffled. “I was in the storage closet and Mr. Green caught me.”

His shoulders stiffened. Fuck, of all the people. “Did he see anything?”

“Not really, but it was obvious, Jacob. I got marched back to his office for a lecture about appropriate school behaviour, and I had to go back into class with him late.” Her shoulders were shaking a little, so he moved his arms into a half hug, pulling her against his chest. “It was so humiliating.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“I should be. He said something about this being a disciplinary committee thing, but that rather than letting it go further, he would drop it if I start staying after school to do some office work for him. Unofficial detention, basically.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. He didn't like the sound of that at _all_. A tendril of guilt, unfamiliar, twisted in his gut. “I'm sorry, I should never have been so pushy, this is all my fault-”

She scrubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. “Don't be silly, I made the choice. Thank God I got my phone locked before he confiscated it for the rest of the day, so at least he didn't see the messages.”

Thank God indeed. “So- wait- it'll be just the two of you after school? In his office?”

“I know what you're thinking,” she sighed, looking pained. “But don't worry, I'm sure he'd never try something at school. I'm pretty sure there are security cameras in the teacher’s offices for exactly that sort of thing.”

That made him feel better, but not much. “I still don't like it.”

“Well, me neither. This is going to cut into our already limited time together.” She put her face in her hands. “Oh God, what a disaster.”

“Hey, we’ll figure something out.” He gave her arm a bracing rub. “Winter break is literally right around the corner, we’ll have some time then.”

There was a click at the door as Father arrived home. Jacob quickly moved his arm away, hating the loss of contact, hands feeling cold and empty.

Father was moving down the front hallway with a much quicker step than normal. “Evie, Jacob!” He barrelled into the kitchen, sounding more excited than Jacob remembered hearing him in months. “I have some wonderful news! I- oh no, darling, what’s wrong?”

Evie gave him a watery smile. “Just a hard day at school.”

“Oh I- I'm so sorry to hear that- is everything okay?”

“Of course. It’s fine.” She straightened. “What's your news?”

“Well I…” he floundered a bit, some of the wind taken out of his sails. “One of the big speakers at the European Archaeological Society has dropped out, and my name came up as a replacement. They're flying me to Edinburgh in the first week of January for the conference. It's a big honour.”

“Oh Father,” Evie said, standing and giving him a hug. “That's fabulous news.”

Jacob had to do his best not to grin at the thought of an empty house over the holidays. Fabulous news indeed.

\---

That night, she lay in her bed unable to fall asleep, staring at the ceiling and feeling terrible. She was just about to give up and try and read a book or something when she heard Jacob creep into her room. “Hey,” she said into the dark. “I'm not really in the mood, sorry-”

“I'm not here for that,” he said, sounding a bit offended. He perched on the side of the bed. “Brought you a hot water bottle and I wondered if you wanted a cuddle.”

She blinked at him and felt herself well up all over again. No, damn it. She had gotten through this day without actually crying- though she'd come close- and she wasn't going to start now. “Yes, please,” she said quietly.

Lifting the covers, he shuffled in next to her, pressing the hot water bottle to her stomach in a comforting gesture. Lying back, he held his arms out so she could lean against his chest. She felt so safe there. It was a world away from the prickly tension of sitting in Mr. Green’s office.

“It's going to be fine,” he murmured. “You'll see. It'll all work out.”

She let out a wet chuckle. “I don't know how you're so confident.”

She expected a joke, but instead, he propped himself up a bit so he could look at her directly and give her a soft kiss. “You're smart. I'm determined. We love each other. We’ll figure it out.”

Nodding, she nestled back against his shoulder, breathing in his lovely smell and taking comfort from the warmth of his body.

His fingers were idly playing with her hair. “Go to sleep,” he said. “I'll stay awake and leave after, don't worry. Just… lean on me for a bit.”

So, closing her eyes, she did.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Eejit_ is just the Scottish written form of idiot. Pretentious, I know, but I wanted to use it.
> 
> ALSO I owe a much overdue thanks yet again to Ungarn Moc, who listens to all of my rambling idea and gives me excellent feedback.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for a ROLE REVERSAL -bangs on drum-

Jacob started making a habit of sitting in the hallway outside of Greenie’s office while Evie was working after school hours. It made him feel like he was a bit more in control of the situation, like he could somehow make her safer by glaring daggers at the door.

He didn’t like to think of him as “Mr. Green”- that gave the slimy creep more authority and respectability than he deserved. No, “Greenie” was perfect, something that sounded vaguely like it lived under a rock and had to be crushed underfoot.

To be fair, nothing happened. Evie said the most that he ever did was occasionally stand a bit too close, but she was quick to admit that it could’ve been her imagination. Either way, as time went by, they both gradually relaxed. Perhaps nothing would come of it after all.

And in the blink of an eye, the holidays had started in any case.

The first little while was torturous. Father was home and, buoyed by his recent success, had put the alcohol away. It meant that they had a great deal of proximity but no privacy- they had to sit across from each other at the table at meals, morose and resentful, unable to touch other than occasionally stealing kisses when Father popped down to the shop. Even Christmas fell a bit flat, with Mother absent and with no way to give Evie the gift he _really_ wanted to give. Sure, they opened presents and Evie made a Christmas ham and some mince pies, but a vague air of regret hung over the house all the same.

Father’s conference couldn’t come soon enough, as far as Jacob was concerned.

\---

Now that it was her second visit to the lingerie store, Evie felt a lot more comfortable. The air was less intimidating and panic inducing, more full of promise and potential.

She walked along the shelves, running her fingers along pretty colours and lace. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for- just something special for their rare chance at privacy. Preferably something that would make Jacob’s eyes actually fall out of his head.

She was just about to pick something brightly coloured and frilly when she saw _it_ out of the corner of her eye. Black and leather, it had smooth lines that started at the bust and went down to the hips, with clips down the front. When she pulled it off the rack, she saw that it laced up the back and had a soft red inner lining. She smiled as she turned it over in her hands, trying to imagine how it might look on her, projecting “confident seductress” with every step.

Yes, that would do nicely.

Grabbing a pair of thigh-high black stockings next to the till, she went to make her purchase.

\---

They waved Father off dutifully, standing at the door as the taxi disappeared to the train station.

Back inside, he grinned and she put a palm against his chest. “I want to go get ready.”

Last time, those words produced spectacular results, so he was hardly going to stop her. “Fair enough. I’ll go make a cuppa.”

Whatever it was, it took her a while. He was almost to the bottom of his mug when he heard her footsteps in the hallway. Anticipation curling in his stomach, he shifted to watch her make an entrance.

And _wow_ was it ever worth the wait. He had to blink a few times just to confirm that he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. Corset and stockings? What had he done to deserve this? She’d let her hair down, too, and even found some blood-red lipstick that made her lips a bright contrast to her pale skin. “God, I’m a lucky man.”

“You are,” she agreed, swaying her hips as she walked over.

His eyebrows rose into his hairline when she brought her hands out from behind her back, revealing a length of rope. “I really hope that’s for you.”

“I thought,” she said delicately, straddling him in the chair, “That you could take a turn at being bossed around for a change.” He felt the brush of her hips against his, a slow grind where he was already hard. As if he could not be with her in _that_.

He thought about it. He was on the fence until her teeth sank into his neck, and with a rush of heat to his groin, he was absolutely game. “Sure.”

She climbed off him and pulled him away from the chair, circling around to pull his wrists together and secure them tightly.  “Can’t have you sitting,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the nose. “I need easy access to that mouth on me.”

Well, he could certainly do that. He dropped to his knees and was about to press his lips to the lace of her panties when she grabbed his hair and yanked his neck backwards. “Did I say you could touch?”

He let out a happy groan. “No.”

“Would you like to?”

Oh God, yes. “Please,” he let out in a puff of air.

“I can see why you like this,” she said, sounding thoughtful. Running both of her hands down the back of his head, she tightened her nails on his neck until it stung. “Ask properly.”

He closed his eyes and resisted the urge to grin. “Please let me eat out your beautiful cunt.”

With a pleased hum, she hooked a leg over his shoulder, giving him the access he needed to lathe his tongue against her. The lace was rough against his mouth and the whole process was a bit more suffocating than usual, given that she had moved her fingers back to his hair and was now basically grinding against his face. Not that he minded. It was sort of nice to not be the one in charge; normally, he was used to thinking several steps ahead, always checking for her level of comfort, testing boundaries and withdrawing, staying vigilant for too much discomfort. This way, he just could let his mind go empty and focus on her.

Eventually, she slid down his front and pushed him back onto the floor with his arms crushed a bit awkwardly under his back, tugging her panties down and kicking them away. Pulling his trousers off, she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his boxers, the heat of her breath making him let out a plaintive groan. By the time she pulled them down to make direct contact on his skin, he was bucking against her, hips lifting fruitlessly off the ground as she kept moving away.

She clicked her tongue. “Patience, Jacob.” He could hear her grin as she reflected the words that he so often used with her. Little minx.

When she took him into her mouth, he was in panting in ecstasy until he felt himself get close- suddenly wrapping her fingers tightly around the base of the shaft, she drew away, letting the orgasm fade. He let out a long low moan, painfully aware that she was likely intending to let this happen a few times. He wasn’t sure if he could take it; he already felt like he was going to go mad.

She crawled up over him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “What do you want?”

“Please let me come,” he rasped.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” she said, nuzzling her nose against his, now sliding the head of his cock against her warmth, over and over and over until he thought he would scream.

“Please,” he managed, “please, please, please-”

She just made a humming noise again, a challenge in her gaze. 

All right. Enough of this.

His bonds were now loosened from a fair amount of struggling on his part. Pulling his wrists free, he rolled on top of her, prompting a surprised squeal. “You can only push a man so far, love,” he rasped, sliding his hands down the smooth leather of the corset.   

She didn’t look annoyed. Her eyes lit up with arousal and a smug sort of satisfaction as she leaned forward to push an open mouthed kiss to his lips. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Shifting up on his knees, he pulled them both to their feet and slid his hands to the swell of her ass, hoisting her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He did a quick run through the catalogue of the house in his head. Kitchen table was the wrong height, too high. Couch too low. He didn’t want to haul her all the way up the stairs, because he didn’t think he could wait that long.

Carrying her and kicking out of his trousers, he conveyed them both down the hallway, leaning with his back to open the door to Father’s study. He shot her a giant grin when she leaned back to live him a confused look. “Why-”

Dropping her to her feet, he spun her around quickly and shoved her front down against his desk.

“Jacob!” She rocked against the wooden surface, trying to avoid the paper and books. “This is Father’s work-”

It was easy to silence her by kicking her legs apart and pushing into her wetness, the long overdue contact making him groan into the air as she gasped. “God,” he breathed, beginning to move properly, each thrust of her hips pushing her further up against the desk, “so fucking ready. What, was teasing getting you off?”

Her shoulder blades were moving as she writhed, apparently losing her objections. “Please-”

He leaned down to suck a hickey into her shoulder, using his arms to rock her back and forth as he moved to meet her. The leather was firm under his fingers, and she yelped in a satisfying way when he moved his hands up her front to yank the top of the corset down, enough to expose her tits to the smooth surface.

Rearing back, he pulled out of her and ignored her disappointed sound, quickly sliding a finger in to coat it with her slickness. In a slow movement, he moved it up the cleft of her ass, noting the hitch in her breathing as he found the tight and puckered hole.

He massaged the entrance gently, giving her a second to get used to the idea. “What do you think?”

She just made a strangled noise.

He pushed his dick back into her, closing his eyes at the fucking delicious closeness of it. “Not going to do anything without your go-ahead, love.”

Tilting her head, he watched her think about it. After a few more thrusts, she relaxed, giving a quick bob of her head. “Yes.”

He worked into the first knuckle, still rocking back and forth, waiting for her to relax as she mewled and twisted. He vaguely wished he could see her face, but that could happen another time.

Almost to the second knuckle, he focused on rolling his hips in a way that made her gasp and grind back against him, clearly hitting something right. He was gradually getting better at that, learning the way that she responded to certain movements more than others, that some angles were more pleasurable and intense. He was getting more stamina as well, able to repeat the movement for quite a while, noting how her gasps were getting higher in pitch-

It took them possibly both by surprise when she suddenly wailed, knees rattling against the desk as she kicked the wood, clenching down on him so tightly that he let out a hissed _holy shit_.

When she stilled, there was a moment of pause until she craned around with huge eyes and a flushed face. “I- I-”

“Wait,” he managed, a bit stunned. “Did you just-”

Still panting, she bobbed her head up and down. “I didn’t- I didn’t know that I could- without-”

Well, shit. The thought was enough to push him close to the edge himself. Drawing in a shaky breath, he went back to thrusting, speeding his pace a little to ride the impending wave. Her fingers crumpled sheets of paper as her hands clenched, letting out little whimpers as she writhed under him, over-sensitized and happy- if the noises were anything to go by, anyway. God, she was so beautiful, and she tried so hard to please him, he was so goddamned lucky-

He groaned over her as he finally came, still gently working his finger, only withdrawing slowly when he was finished. She yelped and scrambled for a tissue box on a book shelf, trying to stop the trickle of his come down her leg.

Rocking back on her heels, she looked back and forth between him and the desk, now in complete disarray. “I have no idea how we’re going to explain this.”

Full of sleepy and happy afterglow, he just threw his head back and laughed.

\---

They christened every part of the house. The kitchen floor, the dining room table, the shower, the stairs, the couch. She frankly couldn’t believe that he had anything left in him, but they were both ravenous, trying to snatch up the last bit of time before they had to go back to enforcing their distance.

She was draped across him on his bed when he chuckled. “I’m torn between not being able to wait for when we can move out- so we can do this all the time- and being worried that you’ll actually kill me in the process.”

“Speaking of that,” she said, propping herself up. “I sent off all my uni applications.”

His hands stroked her back, calloused palms steady on her skin. “Places far away, I hope?”

“Mostly up north,” she agreed. “A few in Scotland. Father knows too many people at Oxbridge, I think.”

He pushed up with a frown. “If you want to go to one of those, you should go to one of those. You could get in, easy. Screw Father.”

“I know,” she said lightly. “But it’s just easier if we go farther. I want to be with you.” 

He gave her a long, unreadable look before he abruptly rolled her over, leaning down for a long and bruising kiss. It was somehow rough and tender all at once, passion and sweetness wrapped into one.

The ghost of the kiss stayed on her lips as he drew away, and she felt herself smile. “What was that for?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just love you so fucking much.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently wrote the bulk of two massive chapters, along with sizable snippets of other sections... And then my computer ate the whole thing. I swear to God, I nearly had a fucking fit when I realized it was all gone.
> 
> Anyway, because of this, the next few updates will probably be slower because I'm working from scratch. Sigh.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's BAAAAAACK

It couldn’t last, of course. Father had to come home, full of renewed energy. School had to start again, and Jacob was back to dragging his feet to class. At least Father seemed to have finally given up on trying to get him to apply to Uni now that the deadlines had passed. Jacob didn’t particularly mind being a lost cause.

Evie somehow seemed busier than ever. She was studying with renewed vigor, and whenever she wasn’t at school, she seemed to be hunched over her desk up to her elbows in papers. It meant that if he wanted to see her, he had to spend more and more time at her school library, watching as she shuffled around piles of books and worried at her lip with her teeth.

It wasn’t ideal. He spent rather a lot of time bored. She kept insisting that he could leave any time he wanted, but he didn’t particularly want to go home alone either.

Oh well. It wasn’t forever.

\---

_The Industrial Revolution is one of the most celebrated watersheds in human history. It is no longer regarded as the abrupt discontinuity that its name suggests, for it was the result…_

Evie traced her finger along the lines in the book, willing her brain to focus for just a little bit longer. The tea was wearing off, if her waning attention was any indication.

Jacob looked like he might have dozed off again across from her, slouched in the library chair. It was nice that he made the effort, but she wasn’t sure that she understood what he got out of these afternoons.

“Evie?”

She craned around and saw Pearl threading her way through the desks. Pearl’s eyes were fixed on Jacob, whose eyes were fluttering open as he jerked awake at the sound.

“Now, Evie,” Pearl said sternly, putting her hands on Evie’s shoulders. “Have you been hiding a boyfriend from me?”

After a fashion. “Pearl,” Evie said, “this is Jacob, my brother. Jacob, Pearl.”

“Your _brother_ ,” Pearl said, with an appreciative lilt. “How did I not know about this? Is he younger or older?”

“Younger,” Evie said, just as Jacob replied with “same age”.

For a moment, she had to suppress an eye roll. He was so _sensitive_ about those four minutes. “Twins,” she clarified to Pearl, who was now batting her eyes full force, moving away to slide into the chair next to Jacob.

It took Evie a few seconds to realize that Jacob was smiling back, and she pushed down a quick stab of jealousy. He was just being polite. 

“So,” Pearl reached out and tugged on the collar of his shirt, eyeing the logo on his jumper. “You go to… What, Barton?”

“That’s right.”

To Evie’s irritation, Pearl's hand lingered. “I’ve never been.”

His smile became playful, and his response was with that hint of promise that he was so good at sliding into his voice. “I’d be happy to show you around sometime”

The stab of jealousy turned into a curling, festering thing, lodged in the bottom of her gut.

“Evie,” Pearl murmured, “where have you been hiding this boy all this time?”

A snappy retort was on her tongue when there was yet another voice from behind her. “Pearl, there you are, I’ve been looking all ove- who the hell are you?”

When Evie turned, Starrick was stomping towards their table, full of his usual bristling arrogance and pomp. He and Pearl had a sort of off-and-on thing; if the furious gaze directed at Jacob was any indication, they were now more on than off.

As if Jacob could ever resist that sort of bait. “I’m Jacob Frye, who the hell are you?”

“Frye,” Starrick murmured, glancing over at Evie. “I didn’t know you were related to one of Barton’s.” He said the word like it meant _garbage_ , his sneer obvious. “And Pearl, I didn’t know you were into slumming.”

Jacob’s snap was quick. “I think anyone would be desperate if the only alternative was the weak-ass gits around here. What do you do in your spare time, macramé?”

Starrick swelled, red-faced, but Evie spoke before he could retort. “Actually, Crawford is head of the rugby team and a fencing champion. The options around here are just fine, thank you.” The jealousy in her chest purred happily at the way that Jacob’s eyes narrowed at her words.

The others looked equally taken aback. Pearl’s eyebrows had risen towards her hairline and Starrick looked confused and pleased all at once. Her disdain for the pompous prick was hardly a secret, so this was a bit of an about-face.

And also a waste of time. Evie stood and slammed her book shut, stuffing her notes into her backpack. “It’s almost supper time, we should get going.” Without a backwards glance, she turned and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, marching out of the library.

Jacob caught up with her a few steps into the hallway. “Hey, wait,” he called, but she ignored him resolutely, chin held high. “Evie,” he insisted, reaching for her elbow.

“Not here, someone could see,” she hissed. She was about to pull away when she heard a door open and he yanked her into an empty classroom.

“Here, then,” he snapped. “What the hell was that about?”

A quick glance at the door confirmed that it was properly closed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, practically a snarl. “ _The options around here are just fine?_ Is there something you want to tell me?”

She wasn’t even sure if she could explain why she was so angry. He hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that girls flirted with him; he was handsome and funny, why wouldn’t they? All the same, that twist of jealousy remained, provoked and nursed by Pearl’s obvious interest. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Not any of my…” His grip tightened and he suddenly pulled her in, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. She couldn’t help but melt into it, clinging to him as he pushed her backwards, her backpack crushing against the wall. He kissed her until she felt herself become breathless, trembling, shivering with desire coursing through her veins. When he drew away, his voice was furious. “Of _course_ it's my business.” He tugged her backpack off and kicked it aside, pinning her to the wall. “No one gets to touch you.” Her brain vaguely registered that this was a bad idea, but all she could do was whimper hopefully as he worked a few of her blouse buttons open, her hands pressing against his chest. He jerked the fabric of her blazer and shirt aside to bite down on her shoulder, teeth sharp. “Only me.”

“Jacob…” she managed weakly before a calloused hand was sliding up the inside of her thigh, fingers pushing her knickers aside.

“You don't even _think_ about the options here,” he breathed. A little cry slipped out when he found her clit, his strokes rougher and faster than usual. “Better keep quiet or we’ll get caught- that would make it a bit hard for you to play the field, wouldn't it?”

She rocked against him, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. “I don't want- to do that-”

“Damn right, you don't.” The fingers disappeared and she moaned in disappointment, trying to grind up against him. There was a _clink_ and she realized he was undoing his belt, her breath hitching in anticipation. It didn't matter that they were at school, that the door didn't lock, that the consequences of being caught would be catastrophic- all that mattered was the pulsing in her hips and the dark murmur of his voice in her ear. “You belong to me. Only I get to see you come. Only I get to fuck your pretty cunt.”

He lifted her leg around his waist, and for a moment she dizzily wondered if she should pull away to take her knickers off- if they could slide them down- before he simply tugged the fabric aside again and pushed into her.

It was impossible to not let out a little keening cry; he didn't give her any time to adjust or relax, thrusting all the way to the hilt in one go, fingers bruising against her hips. It was relentless, almost painful but with a delicious undercurrent that was quickly taking over, sweeping her away with its pleasurable intensity.

“No one else can make you feel like this,” he whispered as she bumped against the wall, each thrust pushing her a little more. “Hear you like this. See you like this. Say it,” he prompted, breath hot on her neck.

“No one,” she agreed immediately, almost a sob. “No one.” Had she been jealous? That seemed ridiculous now. 

She felt his nip at her earlobe. “Still thinking about those options?”

“No,” she breathed, trying to meet his thrusts and make them deeper, fuller. “No, God no. I wasn't-” she wriggled against him, desperate and hungry. “I wasn't before, I was just jealous-”

He stilled, confused. “Jealous? What?”

It was embarrassing. When she wouldn't answer, he drew his head back and coaxed her with a gentle peck to her lips, resuming a slow grind that made her legs shake.

“I just…” she managed, closing her eyes, “she was flirting with you, and I just…”

He started to chuckle, leaning back down against her shoulder. “ _That's_ what that was about? Your friend?” With a sharp push of his hips, she gasped, finally feeling him rub against that particularly sensitive part of her. “Evie, I've already forgotten her name.”

“Please,” she breathed, “do that again-”

He did and it was delicious and tingling and perfect, her fingers scrabbling across the rough weave of his jumper against his shoulder blades. “You're mine,” he murmured, “but I'm also yours.”

She just clung tighter, holding on for dear life as he stroked it over and over and over, until everything was _tight_ and she was suddenly seeing stars, his hand clamping over her mouth as she shook and keened. Still, he didn't let up, descending into a furious pace as she let out muffled wails against his palm, eyes nearly rolling back into her head as he took his pleasure. How could it be so much and not enough all at once? He abruptly bit down onto her shoulder again, finally stilling as he groaned and finished within her, the primal part of her purring in satisfaction at the sensation. As he drew away, he delicately tugged the fabric of her knickers back into place, her thighs now wet and sticky against the fabric.

Her knees were shaking. “I don't have anything to clean up with,” she mumbled, pressing the back of her head against the cool wall, doing up her blouse with shaking fingers. Her heart felt like it was beating so fast that it would burst.

There was a shuffle as he pulled his clothes back into place, doing his belt up. “Will it show below the skirt?”

She rubbed her thighs together. “It… No, I don't think so.”

Leaning back in with a predatory grin and caging in her head with his arms, he gave her a long kiss. “Leave it, then.”

“But…”

He wound his fingers into her hair and gave it a quick sharp tug. “To remind you, remember? Because you apparently need reminding.”

Why, why oh _why_ did that do such things to her? “Okay,” she agreed with a happy sigh, still full of that hazy glow that made it so hard to think.

Retrieving her backpack and following him out the door, down the hallways and past the occasional student or teacher, she walked all the way to his bike and rode home with the slick feeling of his come against her thighs.

\---

The telly was flickering in the dark. Jacob knew he probably ought to stand and turn the light on, but he couldn’t be buggered. It wasn’t like Mother was around any more to fuss about what it would do to his eyes.

Evie appeared in the doorway, motioning for him to shuffle aside on the couch so she could sit. She pulled his legs onto her lap and began to gently massage the arch of his foot. “My conditional Uni offers have started arriving.”

Big surprise, that. “Of course they have,” he murmured, groaning as she pushed against a particularly tender muscle.

“It looks like I’ll have my choice of places.”

He nodded vaguely. “Any preferences?”

“Edinburgh looks like a good school.”

Edinburgh. He’d never been. “That sounds fine to me."

“Do you think you know what you’d do? While I was in school?” She intensified the strength in her fingers and he gave a happy little shiver.

Tipping his head back, he looked at the ceiling. To be honest, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought. “Work, I guess. Just get some kind of job. Doesn’t really matter what, as long as I’m with you.”

When she leaned back to turn her attention to the TV, it was with a satisfied smile that warmed him right to his toes.

\---

It was a ready-meal dinner night. Normally, she would’ve made the effort to cook something real, but her studies left her too exhausted to do much else. Evie toyed with the limp bits of meat, mind on her exams. She had to do well. It was her ticket out of here- and in turn, to a time when she and Jacob could be together any way they wanted.

Father suddenly cleared his throat. “Oh, yes, I just remembered.” He looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Evie, your school phoned me today.”

She froze. Distantly, she saw Jacob go equally still out of the corner of her eye.

“They’re a bit worried about your behaviour.”

Her voice came out much higher than she would’ve liked. “Oh?”

“Yes.” Father was pushing the food around his plate, not meeting her eye. “Your teachers have noticed that you’re quite distractible lately, that you keep missing things that you’re normally on top of. They wanted to know if…” He shifted uncomfortably. “If everything is all right at home. And I told them… I told them about your Mother.” She could see his hands tightening around his cutlery, and with a guilty stab she realized that he thought he was to blame.

“It’s fine,” she said quietly. “I’m just nervous about my exams, that’s all.”

“Right.” He took a deep breath and resumed eating. “Right.”

Much later, when she was sitting in her room and going over her calculus notes one last time, there was a knock at the door. She expected Jacob, but it was Father who poked his head in. “Evie,” he started, “I just wanted to tell you that… You know that you can talk to me, no matter what, if something is wrong? Anything at all.”

Now if only that were true. “Of course.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing happening that I should know about?”

“No, Father.” Not sure if she could keep the guilt from her face, she turned back to her work. “Nothing at all.”  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mojo has deserted me a bit, thus the (comparative) delay. But encouragement might help it come back? -holds comments cup out and rattles it ~~pathetically~~ hopefully-


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found some mojo! Thanks, you guys are the best. -dabs at eyes with hanky-

The coach rumbled along the motorway, countryside speeding by in the distance. Mr. Green was walking up and down the aisle, passing out hotel card keys and assigning roommates. “John and Alec, there you go, you’ll be in 102… Clare and Gemma, 105…”

When he came to Evie, he held out a card. “Evie, you’re in 108. Lucy was meant to be with you but she’s out sick, so you’ll have the room to yourself.”

There was a chorus of jealous groans from her classmates.

“Okay, okay,” Mr. Green continued, standing at the front of the coach and waving at them all to quiet down. “Remember, this puts us into nationals if we hold our ground, so keep sharp. We’re up against some stiff competition, but we’ve been training hard, so just remember everything we’ve gone over…”

As he continued, Evie’s attention wandered, leaving her staring out the window at the cars whizzing by.

\---

The hotel room seemed a bit big with nobody else in it, the second bed conspicuously empty. It was a shame that Lucy was sick- she had some of the best reflexive thinking skills of their team. Brushing her teeth, Evie considered ways that they would have to adapt to make up for her absence, change their dynamic. Perhaps Alec could step up.

She crawled into the sheets early, hoping to be alert and awake for tomorrow’s debate, and quickly drifted off.

Everything was dark when she was rudely awoken by a thumping at the door.

Sleepily reaching for her mobile, she checked the time. The glow was harsh against her eyes, but the numbers were clear enough. 1:30. What the hell? It had to be one of her classmates, coming back confused. She could go yell at them or ignore it; groaning, she flopped against the mattress and pulled a pillow over her head.

There was a shuffling sound.

The door clicked open.

Her heart froze and she bolted up, hands tightly fisted into the covers. No one should have a key. What if it was robbers? Or- or maybe Lucy had recovered enough to insist on coming, but that made no sense, maybe it was- did the card keys open other rooms?

The lights flickered on and Mr. Green stumbled into view.

There was a beat before all of the hairs on the back of her neck started to stand up. 

“What…” she said, picking up her mobile again and nervously slipping out of the covers to stand on the scratchy carpet. She was suddenly conscious of her tank top and sleep shorts, wishing she had some kind of robe. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Evie,” he said, voice ragged. “God, what have you done to me?”

Something was very, very wrong. Her stomach clenched, throat going dry with nerves, brain incoherently screaming that he was blocking the space between her and the door. “What?”

His steps were a little uneven, but he walked towards her, fists clenched. “As if it isn’t on purpose. As if you haven't been batting those doe eyes at me since day one.”

This wasn't happening. She was going to close her eyes and when she opened them, this wouldn't be happening. “I don't know what you're talking about.” 

His voice dropped to a low growl. “I think you do.” This close, she could smell the alcohol on him. 

Everything about this was getting worse by the second. She pointed a hand firmly at the door, pleased that her arm didn't shake. “I need you to leave, right now. Go away. Now.”

Ignoring the words, he walked the last few steps and reached for her.

She lurched backwards in shock but suddenly his warm hands were on her shoulders and their bodies were close, too close, and his mouth was on hers and it was wet and tasted sour like booze and oh God no oh _God_ no _fuck no_ -

Tearing away and drawing her fist back, clenching it just as Jacob had taught her to, she punched him across the face.

\---

Jacob was jerked out of sleep by an electronic buzzing on his bedside table. That was strange- he thought he’d put the damned thing on silent- and he rolled over to ignore it until his brain distantly reminded him that his mobile was set to ring if someone tried to phone him three times in a row. If something was urgent. If there was an emergency.

Frowning, he reached and dragged it over to his face. The screen was glowing with Evie’s picture.

Now he was awake. Fumbling a little in the dark, he picked up. “’Lo? Evie? Is everything-”

Her voice was wobbling, shaky in a way that he didn’t recognize, like she’d been crying. “Jacob.”

Oh no. No no no. Heart in his throat, he stumbled as he rolled out of bed, frantically grabbing some trousers and trying to tug them on with one hand. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

She sniffed and took a ragged breath. “Mr. Green, he- he-”

His brain whited out. For a moment, there was a real risk of him cracking his phone screen with his furious grip. “What? What’s happening? Evie, please, what's going on?”

“I... I think I knocked him out. I punched him really hard.”

He stopped dressing long enough to tip his head back and let the relief wash through him. “That’s my girl.”

“No, Jacob-,” she was starting to cry again, “what if I really hurt him?”

“Where are you?”

“In the bathroom in case he wakes up- he- he’s in the main room, I’m in… uh… 108.”

He grabbed the keys for his bike and hustled down the stairs as quietly as he could. “That’s good, but I meant- where are you? Where’s the hotel?”

Stumblingly, she gave him her location. By the time he reached the front door, he was already plotting the fastest route in his head.

He kick-started his bike. “If anything else happens, ring me again. I’m on my way.”

The ride seemed to take an age, too slow no matter how many speed limits he broke. When he pulled into the parking lot, he practically sprinted through the lobby, skipping the lift to take the stairs three at a time.

When he reached her door, he tried the handle and realized that he couldn't get in. Quickly dialling her number, he waited for her to pick up.

It only took one ring. “Hello?” Her voice was still too quiet, but calmer.

“I'm outside. Can you come let me in?”

There was a shuffle and a series of clicks and the door opened inwards, revealing her pale face. He quickly stepped over the threshold and was about to give her a hug when he saw the man passed out on the floor.

For a wild moment, he had to resist the urge to grab the bastard by the hair and smash his face repeatedly into the carpet.

He took a deep breath. “Tell me what happened.”

She pressed quivering fingers to her lips; this close, he could see how rattled she was. “I was just- I was asleep and there was a knock- I was going to ignore it but he had a key, and he was raving and he- he _kissed_ me and I panicked and- and punched him,” she finished, voice hoarse.

“You did the right thing,” he said grimly. Crouching down next to the bastard, he checked for a pulse and pulled at the lids of his eyes. Boxing had given him a fairly good experience with concussions; this didn't look like one. He'd been out too long, for one thing, and the alcohol on his breath was obvious. When Jacob gave him a solid poke, Greenie groaned, a long and low sound.

Jacob stood and rolled his eyes. “Evie.” He gave the bastard a nudge with his foot. “You didn’t knock him out. He’s passed out _drunk_.”

She put her hands over her face. “Oh thank God.” 

 Jacob shuffled through Greenie’s pockets until he found a room key. “114. I’ll carry him back there.”

“Okay.” Evie took a deep breath. “Okay.”

He crouched down and awkwardly pulled Greenie’s arm over his shoulder, supporting most of the weight by tilting his body. The movement woke Greenie, who started mumbling incoherently as Jacob dragged him out the door and down the hallway. 114 wasn't far, thankfully; once in the room, he let the git drop to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see an open and mostly-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the table.

After a moment’s consideration, Jacob grabbed a coffee mug and filled it with water in the sink. Leaning over Greenie, he dumped all of it across the git’s smarmy face.

Greenie sputtered, coughing, trying to sit up. Jacob bent down and grabbed a handful of shirt collar, giving it a good shake that made Greenie moan in pain. “Listen up, perv. If you ever touch Evie again, I'll rearrange your face. If she doesn't first. Are we clear?”

Greenie just looked like he might pass out again. Or possibly throw up. 

With a disgusted eye roll, Jacob shoved Greenie back down and left the room with a bitter taste in his mouth. Stupid fucking son of a bitch.

\---

She had almost climbed down from her panic by the time that Jacob returned. She took deep, long breath after deep, long breath, filling her lungs, doing her best to clear her mind.

His touch was gentle, his tone soothing. Sitting on the bed, he cuddled her close in his lap, caging her in with his arms. “Everything is okay now,” he murmured. “You did the right thing.”

Leaning against his shoulder, she closed her eyes. "Thank you for coming." 

He was playing with a strand of her hair, twirling it in his fingers. "I'm so glad you called." His grip tightened a bit. "I saw the bruise starting around his eye, well done. Did you hurt your hand?" 

"No." She flexed her fingers as he leaned down to examine her knuckles. "I punched just the way you taught me." 

The pride practically rolled off him in waves. Thank God he'd taught her at all. 

She didn't think she could stand being alone after what happened. “Please stay,” she whispered quietly, wrapping her hand in the fabric of his coat. 

"Had no intention of going." Nudging her away, he efficiently tugged his jacket and shoes off, lifting the covers of the bed and gesturing for her to crawl in.

Once they were both snuggled together under the blankets, his body curving protectively around hers with his arm resting on her stomach, she finally felt that last little bit of tension ease. 

Eventually, she rolled over, tucking her head into the space under his chin. She could smell his aftershave there against the curve of his neck, a warm and spicy scent.

He kept a steady hand on her back, rubbing small circles. “It's okay. You're okay. It's all okay,” he murmured, voice soothing.

There was a brush of air on her head as he periodically curved his neck to press a kiss to her hair. The adrenaline of the whole event suddenly drained and she found that her eyes started to drift shut.

Her last sensation before she fell asleep was to happily bask in the glow of feeling safe. Happy. Good. Loved.

\---

Henry had a fucking _monumental_ headache.

He sat on the bed with his head in his hands, waiting for the paracetamol to take effect. The events of last night were hazy, but he remembered enough. His new black eye confirmed that it wasn’t his imagination.

Shame and revulsion curled and rolled in his stomach.

Perhaps he should resign. But St. Animus was a good placement, a strong step on the way to a shining career. Would she accuse him of anything? Maybe. Maybe not.

All those little signals that she had given- the coy looks, the small smiles, the way she sat at the front of class, crossing and uncrossing her legs- he'd been a fool to listen to them. Just a tease, like so many others of her kind.

With fumbling fingers, he reached for his mobile and dialled for the school’s administrator. “Hello, Florence?”

“Henry,” she said, sounding surprised. Her voice was too loud against his ear and he rode out another wave of nausea. “How can I help you?”

“I have a concern about a student,” he managed, palm sweaty against his trousers. “I think a call should be made to her parents.”

“Of course.” There was a shuffling in the background. “Just let me get a pad. Name?”

“Evie Frye.”

“Oh yes, I remember you mentioning her before. Concern?”

“Distractible, occasionally absent, change in personality.” He had a brief flash of her standing in that damned closet, colour high in her cheeks and panting, clothes rumpled and the fucking smell of arousal high in the air, her mobile clutched tightly in her hand. “Perhaps inappropriate behaviour with her mobile.”

“Got it,” she said evenly. “Anything else?”

He took a deep and steadying breath. “Maybe don't mention it's from me? She has a bit of a vendetta, it's best if it's from the administration.”

“Of course.”

Thank God he had excellent rapport with Florence. Those birthday chocolates had been a stroke of genius on his part. “I really appreciate this, Florence- I owe you one.”

“Nonsense,” she replied warmly. “You're an excellent teacher, I'm sorry that you're having such a hard time with one of your pupils. See you on Monday.”

“See you then,” he agreed, hanging up to take a deep and shuddering breath.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUNNNNNN


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so this pile of trash continues to lumber along

It should've been raining that day, or chilly with a sense of foreboding. Instead, it was normal- if anything, quite pleasant outside, with a chipper mood in the air- when everything came crashing down. There was no warning, no build up, no gradual sense of impending doom.

Father’s knock at the door was gentle, slow. When he opened the door, he looked exhausted.

“Evie.” He took his glasses off and rubbed his face. “We need to talk.”

“Sure.” She slid her notes away on her desk and shot him a bright smile. “What is it?”

“I know.”

She felt her smile waver. “Sorry? Know what?”

“You know what.”

She forced a little laugh. “I don't know why you're being so cryptic, but I have no ide-”

“Don't do this, Evie. Don't make me say the words.” He couldn't even look her in the eye. “I know about you and Jacob.”

The temperature in the room felt like it dropped ten degrees. “You've misunderstood-”

“No, I haven't. I looked through your phone.”

The photos. The texts. She hadn't been careful, had trusted her password, had given into the craven urge to be able to look back at them again later. It was like a punch to the gut; this couldn't be happening. “You- you what? How could you? How did you even know my code- that's _private_ -”

“The school phoned again about their concerns. I asked before and you weren't honest with me, and you've used the same password for everything since you were nine.” He looked like a broken man. “I have a responsibility to you, Evie, and I have utterly, completely, _miserably_ failed you. I know that you both were upset when your Mother left, but this is not- this is not the answer.”

The silence was a horrible thing. It drowned out even the outside ambient noise, swelling until it filled her ears with unstoppable emptiness. She felt like she was choking, unable to summon any words or force them past her lips.

“So,” he took a deep breath. “I'm sending you to your Mother’s. Jacob will stay here. She and I have spoken, and we have agreed to get you both therapy. We don't think this needs to go further than our family.” 

“No,” Evie said, standing, her legs feeling shaky. “No, you can't do this. I won't do this. You can't separate us.”

“I can, and I will.” He walked to her closet and pulled out her suitcase, tossing it on her bed. “Pack some of your things. She's coming in fifteen minutes.”

“In fifteen…” Suddenly, it became clear why he had chosen to spring this on her now. Jacob wouldn't be home from boxing for another hour. “But- I can't even say goodbye?”

Father crossed his arms. “I think this is for the best.”

“For the best?!” She could feel tears starting, frantic and panicked. “You can't- you can't do this, we're in _love_ -”

Something obviously delicate in Father snapped, sending him from sad to pacing and furious in a moment. “Listen to yourself,” he hissed. “You are my children, you can't be in- this is _disgusting_.” His hands were shaking, Evie saw, a light tremor that reverberated all the way down to his glasses. “Do you have any idea of what it was like to find- to find _that-_ …” With a deep breath, he put his hands to his face and seemed to collect himself. “I'm choosing to believe that you're both ill, that this is a disease. That we can move past this like it never happened.”

Shaking her head over and over, Evie clenched her fists slowly, trying to hold her ground. “I won't pack. I won't go.”

“When your Mother gets here, I will carry you to the car if I have to.” He put his glasses on and took another deep breath. “And if you don't pack, fine, you can go without- but one way or another, you're going.”

This couldn't be happening. “Please,” she reached towards him, beseeching. “Please don't do this.”

Before she could touch him, he flinched away. Like she was contaminated, disgusting. More than anything, that sunk the truth in: things were now irrevocably broken.

\---

Practice went well. Jacob felt like he was at the top of his game, and Coach was feeling good about the upcoming match. 

Pleased to be home- God, he needed a shower- he trudged up the stairs and threw his kit in his room. Before cleaning up, though, he quickly wanted to tell Evie about his success. And, you know, maybe steal a kiss or two. Not that he didn't always want to do that. 

When he reached her room, the door was open. Father was sitting on her bed with his head in his hands.

Something was obviously very wrong; Jacob’s eyes swept the space and saw the empty closet, the bare desk. “Where's Evie?”

Father rubbed his face. “Gone to stay with your Mother.”

“For how long?”

“For good.”

The world seemed to slowly tilt on its axis. “I… What? Where is Mother even living nowadays?”

“I can't tell you.”

“The hell does that mean, you can't tell me?”

Father wouldn't meet his eyes. “I found the photos, Jacob. On her phone. I know.”

The words dunked him underwater, swamped his lungs and froze his heart with panic. Jacob closed his eyes and tried to steady himself. This wasn't the end of the world. It didn't have to be. “What of it?”

"What of- _what of it?_ ” Father stood, his shoulders tense, fists clenched. “Do neither of you have any sense of shame, of- of fucking decency?”

‘Neither of you’ had to mean that Evie hadn't been sorry either. Hah. “You can't keep us apart. We’re-”

“Don’t.” Father held up a hand. “Please, for the love of God, don't. I'm so angry and disappointed with you both, but somehow, the- the tone of the _disgusting_ things I saw make me think you're more to blame in this.”

The urge to punch his own Father bloody was getting more and more powerful by the minute. “She’s perfectly happy, thanks very much. I make her happy.”

“You can't!” Father’s volume was escalating now. Jacob had the vague sense that he'd probably been gentle with Evie- or tried to- and that his patience was starting to run thin. Which suited Jacob just fine. “You're her brother, you're supposed to keep her safe, to love her as a sibling, not to- to defile her-”

If they were yelling, he could yell too. “I didn't! I don't fucking care that you don't understand, we were made for each other-”

“ _No_ ,” Father roared. “No, you're not, she's your _sister_ and I will never allow this-”

Jacob marched over until they were practically nose to nose. “You don't get to decide.”

To his credit, the old man wasn't cowed. “I think I do. She's gone, she's not coming back, and if you ever want to see her again- even under supervision- you'll go to therapy and get your head straightened out. This is fucking wrong, Jacob.”

"I won-”

With a shove, Father shouldered him out of the way. “You will.” He left and slammed the door behind him, footsteps quick and angry.

Giving into the blinding impulse, Jacob stalked over and shoved his fist through the door, snarling with impotent rage and grief as the wood splintered under his fist.

He would find her. He would.

\---

The car ride was tense and silent. Evie consistently refused to engage with Mother’s attempts at small talk, staring out the window, angry and stony-faced. At no point did she intend to pretend like this wasn’t happening against her will.

Mother, it turned out, lived in a small village almost three hours away from their old home. It was quaint, in a chocolate-box sort of way, with a small shop and one bus stop.  Her home was about as tiny and cute as the rest of the village, with vines that crawled up one side of the brickwork.

The guest room was cramped, still filled with moving boxes. Mother had made up the bed with sheets that were clearly brand new, and Evie felt tears well up again. Setting the suitcase down, she walked to the window, crossing her arms. The room overlooked the front garden, mostly bare now but obviously well tended.

Under different circumstances, she probably would have liked this place very much.

There was a gentle knock at the open door. When she turned, Mother was holding a cup of tea out towards her. “Do you want to talk?”

She turned away. “No.”

Mother sighed. “Let me rephrase that. We need to talk about what happens now.”

Evie numbly followed her out to the kitchen, a narrow space filled with flowers. It smelled like Mother, and she had a brief and powerful memory of the homesickness and loneliness that she had felt when she had come home one day and learned that Mother was gone.

It seemed churlish not to accept the tea when it was already made. They sat across from each other at the table, perched on two stools, both staring at the smooth and polished wood.  

Mother fiddled with her cup. “I’ve spoken to the local comprehensive. They can take you starting on Monday.”

The tea was scalding. “All right.”

“You’ll sit your A-levels back at St. Animus so it doesn’t make your university applications more complicated.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve arranged for you to see a local therapist. Your appointments also start on Monday.”

“Fine.”

“Evie…” She sounded pained. Reaching across the table, she gently placed her hand over Evie’s. “How did this happen?”

Evie just stared into her tea.

“I couldn’t believe it when your Father told me,” she said quietly, “I didn’t believe it. I’m still not sure that I believe it. Is it really true?”

With a bitter snort, Evie withdrew her hand and wrapped it tightly around her mug, hunching over in her chair. “Which part?”

“You know which part.”

“No, I don’t.”

Mother closed her eyes, looking remarkably reminiscent of Father during this exact same conversation. “Were you and Jacob… Physically intimate?”

For some reason, the euphemism made anger flare. They all seemed so determined to dance around this, to treat her like she was fragile or embarrassed about what had happened. Like she was broken. _She_ wasn’t embarrassed. _They_ were embarrassed. Raising her eyes, she looked flatly at her mother. “Are you asking if we were fucking? Because the answer is yes.”

Mother’s breathing seemed to become shallower. “Oh, my God.” She put a hand over her face. “Your Father seemed to think this all started after I left. Is that true?”

There seemed to be no reason to lie. “Yes.”

“How…” She swallowed. “How many times?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Evie, it matters.”

She shrugged, not sure that she could see how it did. “We were hardly keeping track.”

“So it wasn’t just- a one-off mistake? A lapse in judgement once or twice?”

Now _that_ just felt like it was insulting her intelligence. “No.” She took a deep breath. “We’re in love, we’re happy together.”

“Oh, Evie.” To Evie’s horror, Mother let out a little sob. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

That made no sense. “What?”

“If I hadn’t left- if I didn’t go- I was keeping away because I thought it was cruel to constantly be dipping in and out, I didn’t mean for this to happen-”

“Mother,” Evie snapped, starting to get a bit impatient. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This has nothing to do with you.”

She was almost talking more to herself now. “The books said that children could react in strange ways, but I never imagined-… I never imagined that _this_ could happen. I still can’t believe it-”

This conversation was going nowhere. “I love him, Mother. I don’t want to be here.”

“Oh, darling.” Mother slid off her chair and walked over, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I know you think that. But we’re going to get you help. This is all going to be okay. You’ll see.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you get too stressed, I guarantee you that it all comes out right in the end. Well, for Jacob and Evie, anyway. HAVE FAITH
> 
> Also if you feel like injecting some funnies into your day, take a moment to imagine Ethan's initial reaction to finding all that sexting. Poor man.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TODAY, on: As the garbage burns

“So, Jacob, I just want to make sure- did you understand all of that?”

Jacob was draped across the chair, long legs dangling over the side. “Yes, yes, blah blah, informed consent, you can’t tell Father anything I say in here, whatever.”

The therapist just nodded. No doubt he was used to people mouthing off at him. “That’s right. This is a confidential space.”

“Well, Eddie- Can I call you Eddie?- I just want it to be clear that I’m here under duress and this is a waste of yours and my time.”

Eddie folded his hands. “Yes, why don’t we talk about that? Why you’re here?”

“I’m pretty sure Father told you why I’m here.”

“I’d like to hear it from you.”

Jacob took a coin out of his pocket and began to flip it into the air, tossing it over and over. “I’m here because if I go to these stupid sessions, I can pretend to be ‘well enough’ that I can see Evie again. And once I know where she is, we’re hightailing it the hell out of here.”

Eddie tapped his pen against his board. “Thank you for your candor.”

It might have been sarcastic; it was hard to tell. He had to admit that the man had an excellent poker face.  “Yeah, well, take it or leave it.”

“Why don’t you tell me why your Father wants you to come to these sessions?”

Jacob kept his gaze focused on the coin as it spun in the air. “He thinks I’m fucked up.”

There was a long silence. Apparently, Eddie had decided to just wait him out. It was an irritatingly good strategy, because the silence was boring as hell.

Sighing, he started flipping the coin across his knuckles. “Evie and I are in love. She’s my sister, we can’t be in love, ergo, I’m sick.”

“It’s quite normal for siblings to love each other.”

Jacob stopped to grin at Eddie. “Yeah, but not to do what we do.”

“Which is what?”

He cocked his head. “Fuck,” he said succinctly, putting a sharp emphasis on the ‘ck’.

“Ah.”

Entirely too calm a reaction. Jacob went back to tossing his coin. “Did dear old Dad mention that?”

There was a pause. Slowly, Eddie moved his head in an almost-nod. “He mentioned an inappropriate relationship.”

Jacob barked in laughter.  “Is that what he’s calling it now?”

“Is that amusing to you?”

“I don’t know, it’s not what I would call nailing his favourite in every way imaginable.”

“Your sister is the favourite?”

“Absolutely,” Jacob agreed immediately. He allowed himself a happy sigh. “It’s fine, though. It’s right, probably. She’s fucking incredible.”

“Why don’t you tell me about her?”

Jacob let the coin fall in his palm and be abruptly righted himself, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. He had been wrong; this could still be fun. “God, where to start? She likes being tied up and bent over things- like Father’s desk one time, that was fun. She makes the most incredible little noises when I fuck her, the kind that just make a man harder- especially when she's busy trying to take me in deeper. She sucks dick like a pro even though I know she’s only been with me, and she blushes so prettily right down to her tits whenever I tell her that her perfect cunt is so tight and hot and wet.”

Eddie was starting to look just a touch uncomfortable. Hilarious. “Do you always think of her in exclusively sexual terms?”

“Oh, no, they’re just the most fun to talk about.” He grinned. “Plus it’s hard not to when she looks so damned beautiful as she comes.”

\---

“Evie, if you don’t speak, these sessions are pointless.”

Evie was sure that this woman meant well, but she didn’t have to play along. Mother could force her to go to these appointments. That didn’t mean that she needed to say anything.

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to be helped.”

Silent, she looked out the window, determined not to open her lips for the whole hour.

\---

_Her laughter was free, her hair swinging around her shoulders. “Jacob,” she called out, sunlight bright in the morning air. “Jacob.”_

_She was just out of his reach, no matter how fast he ran. His fingers were so close- if he could just- feel her touch again, have her laugh at something he said, sooth his brow when he was annoyed. But she was too far, too far, too far, and she kept outpacing him by just half a step-_

He opened his eyes to his darkened room. For fuck’s sake, the dreams were getting so obvious that they weren’t even trying to be symbolic or subtle any more. They were all about longing. All about her.

Shifting up, he rested his elbows against his knees and scrubbed at his eyes. The absence of her was like a physical ache in his bones. It fucking _hurt_ , and he was starting to think he would go mad from it.

\---

“Mother.”

Mother turned, in the middle of making dinner, and immediately smiled a smile far too wide, far too sincere. “Yes, darling?”

“Do you think I could see some of my friends from St. Animus? I miss them.”

Mother’s face crumpled. “Oh, dear. Um… I would like to, but I’m afraid I don’t know if we can risk where we are getting back to Jacob. I’m sorry.”

This was getting ridiculous. She had already had her phone confiscated, and there was no wifi in the house. This town was so small that even the library didn’t have an internet connection, and the school had no computers. Mother literally wouldn’t let her out of sight. It was enough to make her desperate; she needed to see Jacob soon or she was going to start breaking down. It was all she could do to get through the day at her new school without crying, and she really didn’t need the pity and confusion of her new classmates. “Don’t you trust me?”

Mother fiddled with her towel as her face crumpled. “I’m sorry, dear.”

“All right.” She took a deep breath. This had to work, because it was all she had. “What if you came with me?”

There was a pause while Mother thought about this. “You don’t think your friends would mind?”

“They’ll probably think it a bit strange, but if we go shopping or something, we could just say you’re tagging along.”

“Yes,” Mother nodded slowly. “Yes. I think we can do that, then. As long as you don’t wander off.”

\---

Pearl and Lucy met them in London, where they decided to do some shopping in the Camden area. Evie was desperate to have a private conversation with one of them, but Mother stuck to her like toilet paper on her shoe.

Thankfully, Mother couldn’t follow her into a change room.

So, in the booth of a tiny Indie shop with blaring music, Evie grabbed her chance. As Mother was going to get her a change in size, she hopped up on the chair and looked over the boundary. “Pearl!”

Pearl nearly jumped about a foot in the air. “Jesus _Christ,_ Evie, has going provincial made you a perv? If you wanted to see my boobs that badly, you could just _ask_.”

Evie shoved an envelope over the gap. “I need you to get this to Jacob.”

“Your brother? I don’t understand, why can’t you-”

“It’s a long story,” Evie interrupted hurriedly. She’d spent a while crafting a cover, one that wouldn’t provoke too much curiosity. “Jacob’s getting into some hard stuff and our parents think he’s a bad influence. It’s nonsense, of course, and I just want him to know I’m fine.”

Pearl looked intrigued. “Hard stuff like LSD-hard or heroin-hard?”

“I don’t know, I just know my parents are overreacting. You have to give it to him at school though, if you go to my house Father might stop you. Jacob goes to Barton, remember.” Over the boundary, she could see Mother’s head bobbing towards the change room. “Shit, here she comes!”

“Okay, fine, fine, I’ll do it,” Pearl said, taking the letter and shoving it in her purse. “You’re so weird sometimes, did you know that?”

Back in the change room, Evie calmly accepted the new dress from Mother and drew the curtain back again. Leaning against the mirror, she took a deep breath, trying not to let herself become too hopeful. Now all she could do was wait and pray.

\---

Jacob was spending his break hunched over at his desk, swinging back and forth between moping and feeling sorry for himself- fairly standard as of late- when he heard someone call his name. “Oi! Frye!”

Ugh, he really didn't want to interact with anyone right now. He looked over to see a vaguely familiar bloke standing in the classroom doorway. “Yeah?”

“There’s some St. Animus girl asking for you at the front gate.”

He nearly leapt out of his chair before he remembered that Evie didn’t go there anymore. Now more confused than anything, he quickly walked outside, heading for the entrance.

There was indeed a St. Animus girl at the gate, those blazers and skirts unmistakable. He vaguely recognized her as he got closer. Pearl-something. The one that Evie had gotten jealous of. A memory that would've made him grin before, but now just made him want to cry.

When he reached Pearl, she held out an envelope. “Your sister wanted me to get this to you.”

She said it casually, with a shrug of her shoulders, like she hadn’t just given a drowning man his first lifeline in weeks. Like she wasn't handing him a gift that he had prayed for, night after night after night.

A letter from Evie.

It took all of his self-control to take it calmly rather than snatching from her. “Thanks.” He had turned to go back inside when he noticed her giving him an odd look. “What?”

She held her hands up. “Nothing. See you around, Frye.”

Once she was around the corner, he ripped into the envelope eagerly. Inside, there were three simple lines in Evie’s precise hand:

 

_7 Greatgarden Way_

_Honiton_

_Exeter_

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUNDRED KUDOS?! Y'all are the best here have some more smut

For the first few days, Evie went to bed with crushing disappointment nipping at her heels. Another twenty-four hours without hearing from Jacob. She knew, logically, that Pearl probably wouldn't pass the message along straightaway- if at all- but she couldn't squash the little flicker of hope.

It followed her around. Haunting her, pressing deeper into her skin with every hour that she had no news. What if it hadn’t worked? How much more of this could she take?

She had nearly given up when, early one evening, there was a tap at her window. It was so quiet that she almost wondered if she'd imagined it- until it happened again, gentle but insistent.

Skittering to the window, she creaked it open quietly and found Jacob standing in the flower bed, only slightly below her. Quashing a happy noise, she hopped a little in a frantic motion before reaching down to wrap him in her arms. “She gave you my message!”

“She did,” he agreed, before pressing little pecks all over her nose. “You’re a genius.”

“How did you know which window was mine?”

He grinned at her and her heart clenched- she’d missed that grin so much. “I’ve been skulking around this place for almost a half hour trying to figure out which one to knock. Glad I got the right one.” Sliding his hands along her neck, he tipped back to meet her lips.

The kiss was long and sweet, filled with relief and tenderness. Oh, how she’d missed him. “I’m so, _so_ glad you’re here,” she whispered, running her hands along his face. The terrible pain of the last few weeks lifted in an instant, a gaping wound healed over as he touched her.

“We can go now, if you’d like,” he responded, gripping her arms tightly. “Just- leave. Figure out something from there.”

She chewed her lip. “I don’t think… I think we would need help in days. We need time.”

“Right.” He furrowed his brow and scuffed the dirt a little with his shoe. “Sure we can’t just jump ahead?”

Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll need to take my A-levels as well, that’s my future. We’ll have to make a plan.”

He sighed and let out a little grumble. “Plans take forever.”

“Not too much longer,” she whispered, putting a hand to his cheek. The stubble was really starting to come in, scratchy under her palm. “Next fall, Uni and away.”

Nodding, he sighed. “Can I come in for a little now? Quietly?” He sounded so hopeful that it made her heart hurt.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Mother’s just in the kitchen and she still checks on me once every half hour or so, no matter what.”

The disappointment on his face mirrored her own. He closed his eyes and thinned his lips. “Does she ever leave?”

“Just once a week,” Evie breathed back. “Choir, on Tuesdays, 7-9.”

“Okay.” He squeezed her hands. “I’ll come back then. I promise.”

It was still so unbelievable that he was really here, in front of her, looking exhausted and happy and hopeful. Leaning down out of the window again, she kissed him one last time, trying to preserve the feel of his lips for the next few lonely days.

\---

It was terrible to drive all that way and back to see her for barely five minutes. But it was balanced by an overwhelming joy, relief that coursed through Jacob from head to toe. She still loved him. She still wanted him. The separation hadn’t worked.

Deep, deep down, at the centre of his being, he had worried.

The minutes dragged until he could get back to her. Days seemed like years, interminable and boring. By the time Tuesday arrived, the six hour round trip seemed like a small price to pay to ease his longing.

When he reached the village, he left his bike outside the pub. Setting out at a jog, he counted the houses until he reached 7. The car was gone, meaning Mother was gone too.

All the same, he knocked at her window to be careful, just in case there had been a change. The window creaked open immediately and Evie’s happy face grinned out at him.

“I'll get the door!” She pattered away in a hurry.

His heart felt like it would burst when she threw the door open, hair tumbling to her shoulders and skin flushed under her freckles, glowing with joy. She was in some kind of dress, something pretty and soft, and he hardly had time to think about it indecently before she dragged him inside and slammed the door.

He was on her in a moment as they tangled together, all grasping limbs and hungry kisses. She was here, she was _here_ , still beautiful and sweet smelling and pliant in his arms, soft and lovely and _real_. Still his.

When she ground up against him, he couldn't help but groan into her mouth. How long had he been thinking about this? Too long. 

“Miss me?” she whispered, her hands working at his belt, nimbly tugging his trousers down.

The anticipation made it hard to think, and anyway, he didn’t know words powerful enough to describe how much he’d missed her. “So much.”

“I missed you too,” she whispered, her hand sliding under his pants and stroking him where he was already hard, her fingers sending sparks up his spine. “I thought of you every night.”

He pulled her hand away- he wanted this to last- and pressed her up against the door, his fingers pinned between her and the wood as he tried to find a zipper along her back. “Care to elaborate?”

She grinned and lowered her eyes. “I think you know what I mean.”

He found it and quickly zipped it down, dragging the fabric so it slid off her shoulders. It was a moment’s work to unhook the bra as well- he certainly had enough practice at this point. Pausing as he wrapped a hand around the softness of her breast, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I think you should tell me anyway.”

The nipple hardened under his hand and he rolled it lightly between his fingers, enjoying her squirm. “Well I, er...”

Normally, he could be more patient, but this wasn’t a normal evening. Moving his hand, he slid it up her thigh and groaned a little when he discovered that there was no fabric in the way. “No knickers?”

“Didn't think I'd need them,” she murmured, tipping her head back and closing her eyes.

Fuck, that was hot. Using his thumb, he found her clit and rubbed gently, slowly. “Is this what you meant by thinking of me?”

“Yes,” she breathed, almost a sigh more than anything. He’d imagined that sigh so many times, terrified that he wouldn’t be able to hear it again. It made him feel a surge of longing, so powerful that he pulled her in for another long kiss.

His mind was back in the present when he finally drew back, and he focused again on her hips. The obstructed view was a bit annoying. “Hold up your dress,” he instructed, and her hands languidly reached down and lifted the fabric. Now he could see his thumb working in her dark curls, see her legs twitching responsively. Fucking gorgeous. “Do you like me watching?”

She was starting to pant, thighs rubbing together, chest heaving. “Yes.”

Leaning back over her ear, he braced an arm on the door. “That’s a bit filthy for you, don’t you think?” He slid his fingers lower, teasing, just stroking back and forth. “How about this? Did you do this?”

“Please,” she managed, “please-”

“Did you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she moaned, “yes, I tried, I tried but- but-”

Part of him wanted to fuck her against the door, right then and there. But no, no, it had been a while, he could do this. “But what?” He slid one finger in slowly, smiling as she wiggled against it fruitlessly.

“But it was never as good- it never felt as good as when you did it and I wanted you and God I just missed you so much-”

The desperation in her voice was enough to finally convince him that she’d shared his pining, gratitude washing through him. He pumped in two fingers with a twist of his wrist, catching her when she sagged against him with a breathy moan. He worked steadily, noting how the hands holding up her dress were shaking, how she kept trying to push her hips against his hand like she wanted more. The harder he crooked his fingers and pressed, the harder she shook, beautiful and bare and his, all his.

When he saw the telltale signs of her getting close, he withdrew.

She practically _pounced_ on him.

They went down in a tumble, ungraceful and awkward. He was pretty sure he bruised his tailbone a bit by landing on it but he didn't give a damn- he was too focused on the ravishing creature who was frantically tugging his clothes off, peppering his stomach with soft pecks, her hair trailing over his skin. Once she’d shoved his boxers past his knees, she scrambled up to straddle him. She gave him another tender kiss before she leaned back and took his cock in hand, angled it carefully, and slid down onto him.

The contact made him groan, his whole body tensing at the fucking _relief_ of it, the shivering ecstasy of having her again, how hot and wet she was. She moved slowly, though, and her scrunched face didn’t exactly mirror his immediate bliss.  

Worried, he reached up to cup her cheek. “Are you all right?”

Rocking her hips, she slowly relaxed, taking a deep breath. “Yeah it's just, it's… been a while…”

Had it ever. She felt as perfect as he remembered- maybe better- and he had to take a moment to recite the Kings of England backwards to get control of himself. “We can go slow,” he managed.

She moaned over him, gradually speeding up as she moved back and forth on her knees. Oh Jesus, that felt good. His shoes were scrabbling against the sliding fabric of the welcome mat and his back was starting to stick to the cold tile where his shirt was shoved up, but there was nowhere in the whole fucking world that he would rather be.

When she finally looked down at him, her gaze was focused, almost feral. “No.”

“What?”

Her nails dug into his chest. “Don't go slow. Don't be gentle. Mark me. _Fuck me._ ”

He almost forgot how to breathe. Rolling her over in a rough movement while still inside of her, he pinned her smaller body against the ground. She wailed beautifully as he picked up the pace, snapping his hips hard enough that their skin slapped together with each movement, filling the hallway with the indecent sound. He latched his mouth to the soft swell where her breasts began and sucked bruise after bruise onto her skin, her fingers dragging through his hair as he felt her heels drum against his back.

“Evie,” he rasped, “Evie, Evie. It was hell to be away from you.”

She pulled him down for an open-mouthed kiss, all tongue and desperation, like she was trying to devour him. When she released him, she slid her hands under his shirt and dragged her nails along his back, the pain setting his nerves aflame. “I'm not complete without you,” she whispered, panting to the rhythm of his thrusts. The fabric of her dress was soft between them, the decorative buttons skittering across the floor.

He wanted to come so _fucking_ badly but he was determined to stave it off until she went first, if he could possibly manage it. As her breathing became pitched and her gaze grew unfocused, he reached down to stroke her clit, pushing her along, flicking lightly until she writhed and bit down on her own knuckles. Her back arched off the cold tile as she came and he fucked her through it, her tightness overwhelming, her moans like music to his ears. There was nothing more beautiful in the world.   

God, he'd missed her. He'd missed her so goddamned much. When he pushed up on his arms and drew in a ragged breath, her hands reached up to stroke his face, understanding written in her eyes. “I'm yours,” she murmured, chanting it until he shuddered and rode out a fucking _firework_ of an orgasm, muscles tensing as he held himself over her. “I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours.”

\---

Evie didn't want him to leave.

They had eventually made it to her little bed, where they crammed in side by side and just lay together, skin touching, sweaty and sated. God, she'd missed him more than she thought it was possible to miss another person.

She knew that he had to go, that they couldn't get caught like this, but all the same- it was torturous to know that she was going to have to go another stretch without seeing him.

Leaning up over him on her elbow, she pressed a kiss to his neck. “I wish we could at least talk more often.”

“Oh my God,” he said, clapping her on the arm. “I can't believe I forgot. I brought you a mobile.”

He shuffled off the bed and dug into his backpack as she frowned. “You what?”

With a smooth movement, he lobbed something at her. When she caught it, she turned it over in her hands, finding that she was now holding a small and compact flip-phone. He was grinning like an idiot. “It's just a crap Tesco thing, but at least we can text and sneak the occasional call. I put a pre-loaded SIM card in it, I can top it up once it's empty.”

Evie liked to consider herself the brains of the family, but every now and then he was a genius, an absolute _genius_. Launching herself off the bed, she flung her arms around his neck and covered his face with kisses. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He grinned and pulled her in for a proper kiss, running his hands down her bare back until he reached the curve of her behind. “How much longer until she's home, again?”

“About a half hour,” she grinned, a bit breathless.

Twisting his lips, he made a show of thinking about it. “Yeah, I think that's enough time.” Feathering ticklish kisses to her neck as she squealed, he pushed her back towards the bed.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

Even with the mobile, he didn’t hear from her as much as he’d like. She had to be careful that Mother never spotted it, so her replies could be infrequent. This was especially true in the evenings, where he got the impression that Mother hovered over Evie with smothering frequency.

It was after another absence that he finally asked. _Where do u hide the mobile? When she checks on u?_

The text arrived quickly this time. _I put it in my bra._

_Is… is that hot? Yes? Yes, thats hot._

_;) It feels appropriate to have you there, anyway._

_Ofc thats my fav place_ , he responded. _Between ur boobs._

 _No, you idiot, next to my heart!!_ He could almost hear her laughter.

They visited once a week, reliably on Tuesday nights. He was spending a small fortune on petrol and had to pick up a few extra odd jobs to afford it, but it was more than worth it to have that little bit of time alone. It wasn’t enough- not even close- but it was something.

A plan slowly evolved, one that was mostly of Evie’s devising. It had them separated until Evie’s A-levels; once she knew her grades, she would pick a school, and they would move there and cut ties.

In the meantime, he just tried to savour every second that they had together.

\---

It was approaching May when, one morning, Mother sat down purposefully and folded her hands. “Evie,” she started, “I’ve spoken with your Father.”

“Mhm,” Evie replied, keeping her eyes on her plate.

“We thought you should know that Jacob’s been making a lot of progress.”

She pushed her food around. “Progress?”

“Therapy has apparently been going well, and he’s being civil to your Father again. He’s even,” Mother said haltingly, “started seeing someone.”

Evie’s fingers tightened around her fork. How should she react? Upset would make the most sense to Mother, right? “He’s what?”

Mother stood and immediately walked to the other side of the table, bracing her hands on Evie’s shoulders. “Now, darling, this is a good thing. He’s moving forward. So, you see, there’s no reason for you to keep resisting your therapy sessions. It’s _time_ , honey.”

Hoping she looked sufficiently sombre and heartbroken, Evie nodded and quickly finished her breakfast and left the kitchen.

Back in her room, she dug her mobile out from its hiding place. There was a new message from Jacob waiting: _Hope u slept well, love_

She smiled and quickly typed out her response. _I hear you have a new girlfriend?_

 _I do_ , his response came. _Holly_. _Invited her round for movie._ There was a beat before another message followed it. _She was put out when I declined a kiss._

Of course she was. _What a gentleman you are._

_I wouldnt dare touch a womans virtue._

She laughed out loud at that, quickly stifling the sound with her hand so Mother wouldn’t come looking to see what was so funny.

\---

He and Father had reached enough of a détente that they could be in the same room. But that was about the extent of it.

Workmen came in to replace Evie’s door one day, erasing the biggest physical evidence of the whole disaster. Father absolutely never spoke about what had happened, and Jacob didn’t either.

Jacob went to therapy. He eased up on the attitude and spoke enthusiastically about having seen the light. He brought Holly over a few times, though he was pretty certain that she was starting to think he was secretly gay.

Father knocked on his bedroom door one evening. They faced off a bit awkwardly, Father in the doorway and Jacob perched on his desk chair.

Rubbing his hands together, Father took a deep breath. “Evie’s A-levels are soon.”

“That’s nice” Jacob mumbled, jiggling his leg in a restless movement.

“She needs to come back to town to take her exams. Your Mother and I have discussed it, and we think she should stay here.”

Right. So this was to be some sort of test, then. If only Father knew how spectacularly they’d both failed it already. “Got it.”

“I want you to sleep on the couch downstairs.”

“Fine.”

“And you’re not to be alone together, but we’re going to try and interact like a family.”

“Cool.”

Father took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. “Right.” He hesitated right before he closed the door. “I’m proud of you for doing the right thing, son.”

\---

It was strange, very strange, to be back in the house with Jacob and Father.

The door to her bedroom was different. When she asked Father about it, he just mumbled something about having repairs done. She’d have to ask Jacob later.

Father hovered over her while she unpacked a few things into her closet and organized her last-minute revision on her desk. “Listen,” he said, “I don't want you two to be alone together.”

“Of course,” she nodded, now laying out her sleep things.

“Right,” he mumbled. “Good. I'm..." He coughed. "I'm glad that you understand, now, why things were wrong." 

It was enough to make her feel a twinge of guilt as he turned and left. 

Things were moderately manageable until dinner, when the three of them sat down to eat. The silence was horrible and made her wish that she could hide in her room until this whole visit was over.

“So,” Father started, a bit forced. “Do you feel prepared for your exams?”

She kept her eyes on her plate and nodded, trying to ignore the curl of anxiety that settled in her chest. “I think I’m as ready as I’m able to get.”

“I’m sure that’ll be enough,” Father said encouragingly.

Nodding mutely, she took a deep breath. She was doing her best not to show how worried she was, but when she looked up, Father’s concerned face made it clear that it wasn’t really working.

Jacob was busy shovelling food into his mouth as fast as he could. Suddenly sensing the silence, he glanced at her, a confused furrow in his brow. “Wait, seriously? You’re not actually nervous?”

He was a wonder of emotional perceptiveness. “A bit.”

With a snort, he shook his head. “You're going to do brilliantly.” He leaned across the table and covered her hand with his own, a comforting gesture. She smiled, but she could feel Father’s burning glare on where they were touching.

The rest of the meal was finished in a speedy and awkward silence.

Later, back in her old room and tucked under the covers, she pulled out her mobile. _This is so weird._

He responded almost immediately. _Its fucking stupid._

 _I can't believe he put you on the couch_.

 _I dont even fit._ The image made her giggle a little. _My feet hang off the edge- or I lie on my side and its my stupid ass in the air._

 _Be nice to your ass_ , she responded. _I like it._

_And it likes you._

She smiled again before the aching longing of having him so close and still so far settled in. _I wish you could be with me here._

_I know. But im pretty sure the old fart has boobytrapped the stairs._

He had a point. _Wouldn't put it past him._

To her infinite surprise, his next text was almost mothering. _And anyway u should sleep. Big day tmrw._

Her anxiety returned, twisting in her stomach. _Don't remind me, I'm too nervous to sleep._

 _Try_ , he responded. _Love u._

_Love you too._

_\---_

She was right. She barely slept.

Breakfast was also impossible, her stomach too unsettled to eat. She sat in front of her eggs before she finally just gave up and had some tea, forcing herself to choke down a bit of toast.

Walking into St. Animus and seeing her old classmates was stressful enough. Seeing Mr. Green made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but they were thankfully able to almost completely avoid each other. Whenever she did see him, she to resist the urge to spit at his feet; the timing of the school’s call and his behaviour was just too suspicious for it not to be connected.

All the same, she had to focus now. Her future- _their_ future, they were a team now- was counting on it.

For three days, she lived and breathed her work, moving from exam to exam and keeping her focus on her revision. At home, she pointedly stayed in the room with Father and sat across from Jacob at meals. Once in the safety of her bed at night, she could text him about her day, but that was the best they could do.

For now.

It was a blessed relief when she wrapped up the last test and packed her bags to go back to Mother’s. Not only could she move on from the exams hanging over her head, she could finally stop tip-toeing around the house. She didn't know how Jacob did it; she'd thought that Mother’s overbearing concern and affection was bad, but Father’s awkward and prickly hovering was infinitely worse.

She could tell that both Father and Jacob were trying to get along, mostly for her sake. It was only marginally better than them fighting, but she appreciated it. They made what was possibly their last show of solidarity when Mother arrived in the car to pick her up, standing shoulder to shoulder in the doorway to say goodbye to her.

Father stepped forward first for a hug. “I'm so proud of you for all of your hard work.”

For a moment, she basked in it, able to pretend that everything was back to normal. But then he stepped away, and when she turned towards Jacob, Father quickly put a hand out a hand between them. Clearly, even hugs goodbye were now forbidden.

Closing her eyes for a moment at the humiliating awkwardness of it, she hoisted her bag off the ground and onto her shoulder. “I'm glad it's over,” she said, trying to cover the tension in the room. “Now, all I have to do is wait for the results.” She smiled at Father and let her gaze just flicker to Jacob. “And then I can move on.”

From his glimmer of a smirk, she could see he understood.

\---

Over dinner one night, Father’s mobile vibrated. His eyebrows went up a bit as he read, lips curving in a little smile. “Evie’s results arrived.”

Jacob pushed the food on his plate around, trying not to look too interested. “Yeah? How’d she do?”

“Very well, of course,” Father replied, standing and picking up his dish. “She’ll have her pick of places, I think.” His tone implied the _unlike someone_ that went unsaid.

Back in his room, Jacob found some messages waiting from Evie. _I got A* in chemistry and maths! I think I’ll be able to go to anywhere I want!_

He grinned at his phone. _So, Edinburgh then?_

_I think that might be the one._

_Cant wait_ , he responded. _When do we leave?_

 _Soon,_ she wrote. _Soon_.

He leaned back on his bed and grinned at the ceiling, invigorated by the thought. But no matter how soon it was, it wouldn't be soon enough. The couple of hours that he got each week were just enough to stave off madness, never enough to sate him. It would be nice if they could have some time together in the near future. To properly talk through what was about to happen and do… Other things. Maybe they could go away somewhere again, now that school was basically out.

Chewing his lip, he typed out a message. _Do u think u could get away for a night? Meet me in London or something?_

 _I'd need an excuse,_ the reply came.

 _Ur smart,_ he responded. _Think of something?_ Fiddling with his mobile, he hesitated before adding another message. _I want to wake up with u in my arms._

When she came back with _I’ll figure it out and let you know a date_ , his grin was wide enough to make his cheeks hurt.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we just crossed 40,000 words of this garbage.  
> 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I've written for this fic so far and it's like 90% smut so y'all pervy kids sit back and enjoy (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

“You’re sure that you’re good to go on your own?”  

Mother’s worried face was hovering out of the window of the car even as Evie picked up her bag and moved towards the train platform.  

Evie gritted her teeth and tried to answer pleasantly. “It’s a welcome event for applicants, Mother, I really don’t think my future classmates would be impressed if I showed up with you in tow.”  

“Right,” Mother said, still looking worried. “You have the map to UCL? And the mobile I gave you?”  

Yes, Mother, I have the mobile that lets you track who I’ve been texting. “In my backpack, yes.”  

“Just call me if you need anything, right?”  

“I will,” Evie agreed, giving her a quick wave before she turned her back and set out towards the train.  

The ride was pleasant and quiet, if too long. Any ride would have been too long, frankly, given what was waiting for her at the other end. When she arrived, Jacob was just outside the ticket carousel, hands stuffed in his pockets and looking as handsome as ever. She flew at him at a run and met him by throwing her arms around him, pulling him into a kiss in broad daylight.  

She felt his surprise, and she grinned when she drew away. “No one knows us here, remember?”  

Jacob just stared at her for a long moment before leaning in for another, deeper kiss. He held her hand tightly as they left the station, the anticipation like an electric current crackling between them.  

They rode his bike through the crowded streets of London until they reached the hotel, a fairly standard looking concrete block. He checked in, getting the room key while she waited, shifting from foot to foot. It was almost like their first time, except that now she wasn't nervous- just eager and breathless, longing beating in her chest like a drum. It had been far too long since they’d been able to properly enjoy each other.

He managed to sneak a hand down the back of her jeans while they made out in the lift, kneading and chuckling darkly as she moaned, unable to stop the sound. Frankly, it was all she could do to stop him from pulling her pants down entirely. It was just as well that he listened, because a significant part of her probably would've let it happen if he'd kept pressing; it was honestly dizzying, how much he made her lose all sense of judgement.  

They were unwilling to pull away from each other when they reached their floor. Instead, they staggered down the hall with their lips still locked together, alternating between light pecks and open-mouthed, biting kisses. She pulled away to try and read the numbers on the doors, laughing as he pressed his lips over and over along her neck, conveying both of them along in an awkward sort of waltz.

It took a while, but they found the right room. She took the cardkey from his pocket and tried to focus long enough to open the door, twisting around until he was grinding up behind her, her shaking hands continually missing the electronic lock. By the time the key finally clicked, he was already trying to unbutton her shirt, hands fumbling on the fiddly buttons.

Once inside, she batted her hands at him laughingly, tossing the keycard aside. “Hold yourself back just a moment!”  

He grinned at her. “Now why would I want to do that?”

“I…” she took a deep breath and steadied herself. “I want to try something.” It had been on her mind for weeks, a late-night fantasy that accompanied her writhing on her own in that tiny twin bed, desperately wishing for his company. Now seemed as good a time as any.  

That got his attention. “I’m listening,” he said, taking her bag with a tug and carrying it to the corner with his own.  

“Well, it,” she put her hands to her face. “Er. This is sort of embarrassing.”  This conversation had been much easier in her daydreams.

“Now I’m  _really_  interested,” he said, perching on the bed with his hands clasped, beckoning her over with a toss of his head.

Settling down beside him, she kept her gaze firmly on his throat, unable to quite meet his eyes. “So what… Would you think… If I were to, uh.” She swallowed. “Fight you off a bit?”  

The silence was incredibly long and when she finally braved a look up at his face, he was staring into the middle distance with a furrowed brow. “Uh… What?”  

“Sorry,” she said, suddenly embarrassed, “that was inappropriate-” 

“No no no no,” he said quickly, finally turning to her and putting his hands on her arms. “I want to try anything you want to try, I just want to make sure that I… Understand.”  

By way of response, she swayed towards him for a kiss, putting her hand to his chest. But when he leaned in to meet her, almost out of habit as they repeated the motion for the thousandth time, she held her hand firm when he was a hair’s breadth away from her lips. The force was barely enough to make an impact, only enough to lightly hold him at bay.  

There was a moment where he hesitated, his breath hitching as she looked down as his lips and back to his eyes, inviting, teasing. Suddenly raising his hand, he pressed it to the back of her neck and pulled her in tightly, overcoming the little bit of resistance.  

It was just what she’d wanted. She moaned into his mouth happily, feeling the possessive grip in her hair, the claiming movement of his mouth. When he drew away, his eyes were lidded and he was panting a little, one of his hands clenched into a fist on his knee. Putting her hands to his face, she ran her thumbs gently along his skin. “Like that,” she breathed. “Do you mind?”  

“Do I…” he said, with a bit of a choked sound. “Are you sure  _you_  don’t mind?”   

She grinned at him, gently bumping their noses together. “I asked, remember?”  

“Okay so, uh,” he said, closing his eyes for a second, as if he was trying to summon his control. “I’d like a bit more of a, uh, complete safeword system for this. Like traffic lights.” 

That wasn’t obvious enough that she immediately understood. “Sorry?”  

“So,” he said slowly, “if I ask for a colour, green is keep going, yellow is slow down, and red is like before- stop completely.”  

“I can do that,” she agreed immediately. She laced her fingers together with his, still a little self-conscious. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”  

He chuckled at that, a dark sound, one that sent a shot of heat straight to her core. “No, Evie. No. I don’t mind at all.” He lifted a hand to her cheek and she leaned into it, now more eager and desperate than ever.  

In that moment, she felt so  _lucky_ , so happy, that it almost made her feel guilty. This was all so unbelievably wrong on so many levels and she didn’t care a whit, not if it meant that they were together. That they were in love. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was willing to fuck her six ways to Sunday.   

When he leaned in to kiss her, she tipped her head back. There was a second's pause before he smoothly switched to moving towards her neck; wriggling away, she dragged herself on the bed covers until she was just a little bit out of reach.  

For a few moments longer, they did this dance, where she moved away and he pursued, creeping in fractions along the bed. His focus was getting more and more intense with each passing second, and she was anticipating the drop over the edge when his patience snapped, that heady rush into oblivion.  

When they were almost to the middle of the bed, he finally launched himself in a sort of half-tackle. She gasped happily at the contact, his warm body pressing against hers as he wrestled her down. Kicking out half-heartedly, she flailed her arms with no real aim and wriggled against him as much as she could, taking care to press their hips together. The more she moved, the louder he groaned, the sound emptying her mind of anything but the touch of his hands and the press of his lips against her neck. By the time he shoved a knee between her legs and pressed it firmly to where she was already burning, she was thanking every deity she knew that she'd worked up the courage to ask for this.

In a rough movement, he pulled her arms up above her head. He could easily span both of her wrists with one hand and she struggled for a moment, marveling at how strong he was, enjoying the way he tightened his grip the more she resisted.

He slid a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to meet his eyes. “Like this?”

Biting her lip, she nodded, already wanting more. She could feel the slick wetness between her legs, embarrassingly ready for him as she bucked lightly against his thigh.

Quirking an eyebrow at her, he moved a hand down until he reached her shirt; in a quick movement that she wasn’t expecting, he yanked it open, some of the buttons snapping as fabric tore. She managed one indignant and breathy squeak before he was kissing her again, forcing her lips open and licking into her mouth. His free hand slid down to find her breasts, fingers kneading and pinching and caressing until she was whining into his smothering kiss, panting through her nose. The moment he released her hands to start tugging her jeans down, she started thrashing again, but it was deliciously ineffectual; it was like trying to make a wall move. She'd never been quite able to replicate this in her daydreams, how _solid_ and unyielding he was.

He tolerated her wriggling until her jeans were past her knees. “Behave,” he snapped, rolling her onto her side to deliver a ringing slap against her ass. She moaned and stilled long enough for him to slide her trousers and the remains of her blouse off, leaving her mostly bare and shivering.

Once that was over, though, she made another half-hearted bid for freedom, scrambling towards the edge of the bed. She had made it partly off when he caught up with her, one hand around her waist until the other quickly wrapped in her hair, forcing her to her knees. Between his legs, she could see what effect this was having on him, and she whimpered happily when he pushed her face against the rough fabric of his fly.

“So eager,” he managed, and she could feel his hand shaking a little in anticipation, though his voice was admirably steady. “Unbutton me.”

With trembling hands, she obeyed, tugging the fabric down until she could get to the boxers as well, yanking them down to reveal his erection, thick and jutting into the air. When she paused, trying to steady her breathing, he took it in hand and pressed it against her lips gently, coaxing.

She just pursed her mouth shut and looked up at him through her lashes, trying to make her smile as teasing as she could possibly manage.

Raising his eyebrows, he leaned down and yanked her jaw open before pushing himself in, moaning as she closed her lips and sucked. It was just what she’d hoped for, much rougher than usual as he let himself go, fucking into her mouth with panting enthusiasm. Her eyes were starting to water and he abruptly drew back when he noticed, hand flying to her cheek and looking concerned. “Colour?”  

She looked up long enough to whisper “green” before she put her head back down, enjoying his strangled groan.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, hand shaking again as it settled on the back of her head. “Oh fuck, Evie, fuck-”

Trying to keep her movements as even as she could, she ran the flat of her tongue along the shaft, twirling at the tip, doing her best to remember everything that he liked, all of the actions that made him shake harder. After one more gag, there were suddenly hands at her armpits and he was yanking her up until she was straddling him, sliding his hands along her back to press her close. He yanked his shirt off and kicked away his trousers, following it with her own bra and knickers, the scraps of fabric tossed aside to the 90’s patterned carpet.

She slid her arms onto his shoulders, admiring the ridiculous breadth of them for the millionth time, letting one hand skim down to trace the ink patterned into his skin. While she was focused on his chest, his focus was somewhere a bit further south, cock in hand as he angled himself and gently rubbed against her slit, the click of moisture the only sound other than their mixed heavy breathing. Once they were aligned, she tipped her head back and grinned at him wickedly. Putting her considerable dancer’s strength into her thighs, she braced her knees against the bed and refused to simply slide down.

With a growl, he put more force into his arms, and she discovered- to her delight- that even her toned legs weren’t enough to keep him at bay.

The first thrust was solid and she shuddered as she felt him slide in fully, giving her no chance to adjust. It was almost painful as she stretched around him- but in the best, most delicious way- bumping her head against his shoulder and digging her nails into his back. “Oh God,” she managed, vaguely aware how plaintively it came out, “Jacob, oh, oh God, I can’t-”

This was _perfect_ , the way that he got more intense with each little denial, just what she’d hoped-

“Yes, you can,” he whispered, “you are, and you fucking love it.”

She was like putty in his hands as he moved her, lifting her easily and pushing her back down as she clung to him tightly. Each possessive grip made her breath hitch a little higher, and she was wishing vaguely that she’d asked him about this _much_ sooner, because this was deliriously good. “No- that’s not true-”

He yanked her hair back and pressed a hot kiss to her neck. “Colour,” he mouthed against the skin there, sending tremors down her spine.

“Green,” she affirmed breathily, squealing as one of his hands travelled to her ass and squeezed tightly, kneading and pulling in a way that somehow made his cock go even deeper inside her. She didn’t even know that was possible and she ground down against him as much as she could, running a hand through his soft hair and against the stubble of his cheek and oh God, he was just so _handsome_ , and the muscles moving in his back were delicious, and how had she gotten so lucky? 

He drew back to smirk at her, a long movement. “Do you want to see how much you’re loving this?”

“What?” she managed, too far gone to think clearly. “I- what-”

He suddenly lifted her away and spun her, her knees nearly giving out beneath her as she twisted, tripping over her own feet. Once she was facing the other way, she abruptly realized that he’d perched them on the bed across from a full-body mirror all this time- he’d clearly been watching her move over her shoulder when she was straddling him, and the thought made her flush hotly from head to toe.

Her brain caught up to what was happening when he gripped her hips and pulled her back down, sliding her into his lap. “Oh, no,” she babbled, heart pounding and every part of her body humming with arousal, “I can’t, I can’t watch-”

Clamping her eyes shut tightly, she moaned as she felt him grind up against her. Each rocking twitch of her hips was a terrible tease of what could be, and she scrabbled her hands against his thighs, trying to grip the solid muscles there. He was perfect, just perfect, and she could barely think straight- he finally slid into her and she moaned as he drew her legs open, the change in angle deliciously deep.

“Look,” he murmured, voice low and vibrating against her back, putting a hand to her throat to force her chin up. “Look at how much you're enjoying this.”  

She couldn't, she couldn't, it was too much to bear- but she cracked her eyes open a little, too far gone to not listen to him. What she saw was entrancing and humiliating all at once, her cheeks flushed with colour, mouth open in a little ‘o’, her head tipped back as she moved over him, his hand spanning an impossible amount of her waist as he moved her, her breasts quivering lewdly with each thrust. And oh, when she looked down, she could see where they were joined, his cock red and angry and slick from her, disappearing into her dark curls and it was everything that was right and wrong and heavenly and sinful-

She was broken from her trance by his words in her ear, low and steady. “Oh, Evie. Look at you. So beautiful- such a beautiful little slut for me.”

The insult did strange things, spiking her arousal in ways that she could hardly even explain to herself. She tensed in his arms, back taut and curved like a bow, moaning a little into the air, letting her eyelashes flutter as her head lolled backwards against his neck.

For a moment, he hesitated, voice coming out softly. “Colour?”

Distantly, she was grateful that he was being so cautious, even if he had no need to be. “Green,” she breathed, almost more a sigh than a word.

His intake of breath was staggered and ragged, his arms sneaking around her waist to firmly hold her in place while she tried to rock, moaning and seeking more friction. “You bad girl,” he rasped, arm so strong that she was pinned tightly in place, so full and not able to move an inch. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me that you like being called names? We could’ve been having so much fun this whole time.” 

“I’m sorry,” she managed, not even sure what she was apologizing for or agreeing to, just desperate for him to let her move again.

She was boneless in his arms when he suddenly rolled her over, pressing her front against the bed, her legs dangling over the side. In moments, he was pushing himself inside of her again, rough and hard, stroking that delicious spot that made her convulse against the scratchy sheets. “Such a little whore for me, can you feel how fucking wet you are?” She gasped when she felt his teeth latch onto skin around her shoulder, sucking a bruise into her skin before he pulled away with a _pop_. “So fucking desperate for me in your cunt, you dirty slut-”

She shuddered, rocking her head back and forth mindlessly. “No, no, I’m not-”

“ _Liar_ ,” he hissed, breath hot against her back. “You _love_ being fucked like this, like a bitch in heat.” Her breath hitched when one hand propped up her hips a little and another slid between her and the bed to circle her clit, each movement making her twist and cry out. “Your cunt was made for taking my cock deep, wasn’t it?”

He was pressed against her in so many ways, over her and inside her and arm underneath her, cocooning her in a way that somehow made him feel very dangerous and very safe all at once. “ _Yes_ ,” she moaned out, too far gone to keep up the game, “yes, Jacob, God, please, I love it when you fuck me, please- _Jacob_ -  _please_ -”

Another thrust and she finally tensed and broke, blood roaring in her ears, screaming into the mattress as she lost herself, every inch of her skin aflame and her hips throbbing unbearably, hands scrabbling for purchase as her peak rushed on her, overwhelming and heady.

“Fuck,” he managed, “Ffu-”, his hands digging so tightly into her lower back that she was sure she would have those perfect marks to dwell on for days, reminding her of how wonderful it felt to be under him, writhing and helpless.

It had been such _hell_ to be apart and she didn’t want it to ever happen again.

The more boneless she became, the rougher his strokes were, steady and fast as his hips slapped against her behind. She wondered if maybe she should be doing something, but she felt weak as a kitten, unable to do anything but lift her hips and slide against the bed with each of his thrusts. Reaching out limply, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist; he followed the motion when she pulled it up, twisting her neck until she could suck two of his fingers into her mouth.

That did the trick. His breath caught in his throat as he gasped, the rest of his fingers tightening on her jaw. She gave her tongue a few little swirls and he let out a long and low groan- her favourite sound in the whole world, she decided- his hips stuttering in jerks that were brutal and exquisite until she felt him brace himself over her, panting, the slide of his come beginning to drip down her thighs.

“Thank you,” she murmured as he flopped down, their skin sweaty and sticking together where they touched.

“Thank-” he managed before he started to laugh, breathless and disbelieving against her shoulder. “After that, you- you’re thanking _me_ -”, he descended into almost hysterical giggles, patting her absently on the top of her hair, now snarled and tangled beyond all belief. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

She twisted her head around to smile at him limply. “Shower?”

“Yes,” he agreed, nuzzling against her neck. “Just… Give me a minute until I can use my legs again.”

\---

Sometimes the urge to possess her kind of frightened him.

Lying in the dark, with her warmth beside him, it was easy to keep those demons at bay. It was just that it could be so overwhelming, and he felt his throat close whenever he dwelled on the possibility of losing her. The thought was too terrible to bear. It made him immediately tuck her closer, nose against the back of her neck as she made a sleepy noise.

He’d been terrified of hurting her to begin with. But then when it turned out that she _liked_ being hurt, well. That changed things a bit. And then when it turned out that he liked hurting her, but only if she was enjoying it… The whole thing was a bit confusing, but he wasn’t thinking about it too carefully. He was just sort of along for the ride at this stage.

All he knew was that he had to have her or he would go mad.

Curled around her, he drifted off to sleep, eased by the sound of her breathing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I just suddenly gained a bunch of new subscribers for this fic? After that number sat still for like 17 chapters??? I feel bad that you've arrived when things are almost over, but anyway HELLO and WELCOME


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the SULTAN of sin and also twisting your heart in my talons

He woke up before Evie. That officially had to be a first.

Jacob nudged his leg where they were still all tangled up together, giving his foot a brisk and tingling shake while blood flowed back into it, sliding his hands up her soft skin. Rolling her onto her back, he started to press soft kisses down her chest, little fluttering things that barely properly brushed his lips.

He was almost to her navel when she stirred, lifting her head sleepily. “Good morning,” she murmured, sounding happy. Which was what he wanted, in the end, wasn’t it always what he’d wanted?

“Morning,” he agreed, working down until he was nudging his nose along the crease of her thigh, enjoying the way she let out a satisfied hum before her breathing hitched and became uneven.

He went slowly, carefully, parting her curls before he started with little licks, coaxing her body awake and eager. It didn’t take long- it never did, bless her- and he was able to slide his fingers in with no resistance, gently moving and swirling his tongue until she drew up her legs, shivering and whimpering beautifully for him.

When he felt a tap at his shoulder, he drew away with a last few licks and sat up, leaning back on his palms. She was smilking at him with the colour high in her cheeks, eyes bright; her hair was an absolute bird’s nest, snarled and tangled beyond all belief, and he could see the occasional mottled red mark on her skin from yesterday.

Gorgeous.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, beckoning to her. She crawled to him and he pulled her into his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pushed into her gradually, breathlessly groaning at the sudden and enveloping warmth.

It was gentle, and the closeness meant that they had to rock back and forth in a sort of swinging movement, foreheads pressed together when they weren’t sharing slow kisses. Her fingers were continually running through his hair, tender and curious, and he was sure that it would be ridiculously puffy by the time they were done. Not that he cared.  

Sliding his hands down her back, he gripped her hips and pulled her even closer, lowering his head to press it against the crook of her neck. For some reason, it was easier to say if he wasn’t looking directly into those bright eyes, less overwhelming in a way that made it hard to get the words out. “I love you so much.”

She sighed contentedly and slid her arms to his shoulders, perching her chin on the top of his head. “I love you too,” she whispered, shivering happily when he tucked his arms around her waist and pressed her against his chest until there was no space between them at all, twined together like climbing vines. 

It was so tight and so hot that he wasn’t sure how long he could last, overwhelmed with emotion and the desire to keep her there forever. Almost as if she sensed his hesitation, she pulled him up for another kiss, looking him in the eyes when they were done. He could see all of her lashes from here, the spray of freckles across her nose.

“Go ahead,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

It took over his body slowly and when he came, it felt more like blessed relief than the usual frantic pounding pleasure, rippling through him as he groaned and clutched her even tighter. She stroked his neck through it, making a long and soft pleased noise, and damn it all, he loved her so much and he didn't care whether it was right or wrong, just that she was here and his.

Rather than pulling apart, she tugged him down sideways where they could lie tangled together, hardly knowing where he began and she ended, as close as two people could possibly be.

They lay there for what felt like forever and not long enough all at once, unwilling to get up and face the day. He wanted to enjoy simply being alone, with no threats or worries hanging over their heads. For once. Every now and then, she would lean over and drift her fingers along the fluff of hair that traced down his torso, the movement nice and ticklish all at once.

When a mobile started to ring, he groaned and tried to roll over her to stop her from getting up. Evie just laughed and shoved him away, swinging herself up and setting her feet on the floor. He propped himself up on an elbow and watched as she dug through her backpack, getting a nice view of the curve of her ass when she bent over to check her case. When she found the mobile, she grimaced a little, twisting it in her hand before she answered it.

“Hello, Mother,” she said, casting an eyeroll at him over her shoulder. “Yes, I… What?”

He got up and ambled over to her, leaning in to press the back of her phone to his ear, trying to hear what Mother was saying. What he heard made his breath catch in his throat.

“I know you’re not at UCL, Evie. The… The orientation isn’t until next week. I checked.”

Evie shot him a panicked look and he gripped her elbow tightly, trying to convey reassurance with the motion. “What are you ta-”

He could hear Mother’s choked sob, the repressed sound making all of the hairs on the back of neck stand up.

“I know you’re with him. Both of you go to your Father’s, right now.”

\---

She clung to Jacob tightly for the whole ride home. He had immediately suggested that they not go back at all, but she didn’t want to leave it that way; they had to at least set things straight, whether or not it was possible to set them right.

In vain, she had hoped that the time on the road would help her decide what to say. When they reached the front of the house, though, she found that she was as unsure as ever.

Jacob took off his helmet and gave her a long look. “We can still just turn around and go.”

“No,” she said softly. “We can’t.”

She took his hand and they went inside.

The hallway was empty, and she kept her grip firm as they walked into the kitchen. She expected Father, but she was surprised to find Mother as well, both of them sitting at the table and looking like they were going to be sick. Father’s eyes immediately flew to where their fingers were twined together, but Mother focused on Evie’s face, disbelieving, beseeching.

The stood in a tense silence for a long moment, sunlight flickering through the windows.

There was a discordantly loud rattle as Father stood, his chair shoving backwards against the tiles. With a shaking hand, he pointed a finger at Jacob. “You,” he said slowly, taking a deep and ragged breath. “You-”

It was easy to step between them. “No,” she said confidently, heart crumbling a little bit at the way that Father’s face fell. “It’s not just his fault. It’s mine too.”

Jacob interrupted gruffly. “It’s no one’s _fault_. It just is.”

That seemed to jerk Father out of his reverie, making him step forward with a bit of a wild look in his eye. “What do you mean it just _is_ , you were never sorry from the start- how could you possibly have made this happen, turned her mind so fully-”

Evie felt a brief flash of impotent rage, fury at being ignored and treated like she was somehow a victim. She wasn’t. She _wasn’t_. She knew what it meant to be a victim, to be kissed against her will, and it was a million miles away from Jacob’s tentative touches, constantly affirming, gentle, loving, caring. In a sharp movement, she spun on the floor and grabbed Jacob’s face, pulling him in for a long and deep kiss. He kissed her back, fingers tightening on her arms, movements certain.

There was a choked noise from the table, Mother’s breath hitching in a sob while Father just gaped in shock.

Pulling away, she turned back to their parents. “ _I_ wanted _him_. You don’t even want to know, you never asked- this is more far-reaching than you have any idea of.” 

Father’s face was turning red and he took a few more steps, shaking as his hands clenched and unclenched. Evie was suddenly jerked backwards as Jacob pulled her, moving her away as he defiantly stepped up to face their father, meeting snarl for snarl. For a moment, she thought it might come to blows, but the whisper of Mother’s voice made them all freeze.

“I thought you understood,” she said. “I thought you had listened. How could you lie to us?”

Evie closed her eyes, willing the painful clench in her heart to ease. “We have to be together. I’m sorry, we- we have to.” She could hear the way her voice had taken on a pleading tone, desperate for them to understand even though she knew they never would. 

Father took another deep breath, head hunching over his shoulders, eyes on the floor. “This can’t be allowed. It’s- it’s _illegal_ , it would serve you right if we went to the police-”

Again, it was Mother who cut through everything before Evie could even articulate a stunned reply. “No, Ethan.”

They all swivelled around to look at her, wide-eyed.

Father was blinking hardest of all. “Cecily?”

“You won’t send our children to jail. I won’t let you.”

Evie could feel her heart starting to beat very fast in her chest, the barest flickering embers of hope beginning to flare. She felt Jacob’s hand squeeze hers tightly, similar in its disbelief.

When Mother finally squared her shoulders, she looked at them both with red-rimmed eyes. “We cannot accept this. We never can. If you leave now, you are no longer our children, and we can never see you again.” Her voice broke. “Is this really more important than your family?”

Evie hesitated for a moment, torn, but Jacob’s firm grip made it clear that he already knew exactly what choice he would make.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Tried to breathe in the smell of the kitchen, remember it one last time, soak in everything from her childhood. The way the tiles felt under her socks, the sound of the plumbing gurgling where Father had never quite been able to fix it, the faint scent of lemon soap dish wash in the air.

When she opened her eyes, she was ready. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

Turning in almost identical movements, she and Jacob left hand in hand, out of the front door and onto his bike, away to an open future.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END IS NIGH 
> 
> There's still a smutty epilogue to come. It's as-yet unwritten and pretty up in the air in terms of content, so if you have anything you're particularly dying to see, now's the time to make your request known!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys I've now cumulatively written over 150,000 words of Fryecest what the fuck is wrong with me
> 
> Also this is a friggin massive chapter and things are getting pretty BDSM up in here, so enjoy I guess?

When Jacob reached the flat and tried to open the door, he disturbed yet another big pile of mail on the mat. Stepping around carefully, he scooped it up to take it to the table, quickly sifting through the stack of papers.

Flier, flier, bill, flier, something official looking- that would no doubt be for Evie, she was determined to get their documentation in order- flier, charity drive, an envelope with the University of Edinburgh crest- that would also be for Evie- another flier, and something from the bank addressed to _Jacob Frye & Evie Frye_.

It was stupid, but seeing things addressed to the both of them still made him smile. Like they were a real pair. 

“Evie?” he called out, tossing the mail next to her haphazardly stacked textbooks. He could see partial titles peeking out from underneath her scattered notes, _Organic Chemistry_ this and _Linear Algebra_ that. Most of it was utter gibberish as far as he was concerned, but she was a few months in and still seemed to be enjoying herself. 

“Coming!” she yelled back, and with a few clicks that he took a moment to recognize as the sound of high heels, she came into view.

For a moment, he felt as tongue-tied as the first time she’d let him touch her. With her hair down and styled, a lovely dress skimming down to her knees, she looked as beautiful as he’d ever seen. “Uh… You look…” He swallowed. “Nice.” It was grossly inadequate, but oh well.

She grinned at him. “I know the reservation isn’t for a few hours, I just got all excited.”

He allowed himself a bit of a leer. “I have some ideas about what we could do in those few hours.”

“I thought you might.” She popped a hip and beckoned him over with a finger. “But I have a rule for tonight.”

“Okay?” he said slowly, walking to her and raising a hand to stroke her cheek.

Before he could, she snapped her arm up and gripped his wrist tightly. “The rule is: you only get to touch when I say so, and you have to do as I ask.” Releasing him, she moved her finger to skim over his lips, a ghosting touch that made a shiver crawl up his spine.

He made a show of thinking about it. “Why would I do that? I mean, hypothetically speaking-” he advanced and leaned in so his breath was against her neck, sliding a hand along the small of her back, “-I’m pretty sure I could go ahead and you’d still enjoy yourself.”

He could hear her grin. “Because if you aren’t good, you won’t get your birthday present.”

Oh fuck yes. “Is it worth it?”

“I’ll let you decide,” she said, pulling away and walking towards their bedroom, hips swaying with each step in those heels.

This was shaping up to be the best birthday _ever_. “It’s not, like, socket wrenches, is it? Your gifts are always super practical and boring.” 

She ignored him, walking to her side of the bed, digging into her bedside table and pulling out a box a little larger than her hand. Silently, she held it out to him, eyebrows raised.

“Fine,” he said, taking it, “but I’m almost sure that whatever you have in here isn’t worth being abstinent for the next three hours.” He tore into the paper, laying waste to her careful wrapping. “Because I’d like to bend you over right now and do filthy, filthy things to you in that dress, and it’s going to take a miracle to put me off that.” He opened the lid, grinning at her, only glancing down when she finally rolled her eyes. “Go on, make that face, but I know y-…”

There was a ring gag nestled in the tissue paper.

Oh, fuck. _Fuck_. His pants were suddenly _way_ too fucking tight and there was a very good chance that he had forgotten how to breathe.

“So,” she said calmly. “Like I said, no touching, and you do whatever I ask. And when I say we’re done- and _only_ then- I’ll put that on for you. And if you don’t behave, we don’t get to play with that tonight.”

“Okay,” he managed, more of a croak than a word.

\---

She ordered a huge garden salad, wrapping her lips around each small tomato carefully and sucking it in with a _pop_ , making eyes at Jacob every time. Hilariously, it never seemed to stop working, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he blinked at her owlishly.

He’d prowled around the flat for the three hours, spending a good chunk of that time hiding from her in the shower. And he’d cleaned up nicely, she’d give him that. With a dress shirt and a jacket- she had no idea where he’d found those, he certainly didn’t own them before- he looked uncomfortable but rather dashing all the same.

The way he’d done up his tie was almost a joke, but she decided to leave it. It was sort of cute, haphazardly tossed around his neck. Very Jacob.

She’d taken care to ask for a table in a darkened corner, a big potted plant granting them a measure of privacy. A candle flickered between them, casting shadows in the atmospheric low light.

“So,” she said slowly, slipping her stockinged foot out of her shoe. “Are you enjoying the meal?” Taking comfort in the long draped tablecloth, she slowly let her foot slide up his calf, repeating the motion a few times.

“Uh,” he said, “yeah, it’s nice.” It was a bit more expensive than what they normally would indulge in, but what the hell. Birthdays only come once a year.

She scooted her chair in a bit closer, smiling at him. “I’m glad.” Thank God for all those years of dancing; it was easy to hold her leg steady, slowly sliding it up his thigh. “Any birthday reflections for the year?”

“Not really,” he said, voice a bit strained. “Though I’ll enjoy having a drink legally.”

“I suppose,” she agreed. “Aspirations for next year?”

He swallowed. “Maybe find a bit of a better job, that wo-” he broke off and choked on his soup when she finally reached the lump in his trousers, tracing the outline with gentle nudges. He coughed for a while, holding up his napkin, frantically scraping his chair forward so that his lap was hidden by the tablecloth.

She calmly took another bite. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “’S fine.”

“I’d like to maybe find a lab position,” she continued easily, bending down over the plate so that he’d have a clear view of her cleavage. “I think it would be good for my career.”

“Probably,” he agreed, voice unusually high.

She kept her motions steady; this was really no different from holding a pose, and oh, wouldn’t her ballet teachers be horrified that she was applying her practice this way? Tilting her head and resting it against her hand, she leaned over and spoke in a quiet tone, confident that the music and low hum of chatter would cover their conversation. “Do you think I could make you come like this?”

His mouth went a little slack. “Uh…”

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to answer, she dragged a finger in his soup and popped it in her mouth with a wet suck. She took her time taking it out, hooking the digit against her lip. “What if I told you that you had to?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed again. “But-”

“But nothing,” she said firmly. “We have a deal, remember? You’re my plaything until I say so.”

“I…”

She made her foot’s movements a bit faster, a bit firmer, enjoying the way he squirmed. “Yes?”

“I don’t know- if I can,” he said, fingers clenched tightly around his spoon.

Perhaps he needed a bit more encouragement. “Okay, well,” she whispered back, keeping her eyes firmly on his, “what if I told you that I was touching myself?”

She didn’t think his eyes could get any wider, but they did. “What?”

Using the hand that was facing the wall, she tucked her fingers under the tablecloth and up her skirt, to the seam of her knickers where she was already wet. She dabbed her fingers in the moisture, withdrawing her hand delicately and bringing them to rest back on the table, letting him see the sheen of moisture, glimmering in the candlelight.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, shoulders tensing. For a moment, it looked like he was going to start hyperventilating, his breaths coming faster and faster. “Hooooly _fuck_.”

Sliding her hand back under the table, she tucked her fingers under her knickers again and let out a little sigh. “I wish these fingers were you.”

It seemed like words had deserted him, a series of little choked noises flowing from his mouth.

She paused her foot for a moment, giving him an even look. “Don’t you?”

He shook his head like he had water in his ears. “What?”

Resuming her motions with more pressure than ever, she breathed out the words. “Don’t you wish you were inside me?”

The tablecloth bunched in his fingers as he dropped the spoon and clenched his fist tightly, eyes low as if he could somehow see through the wood and watch her work. “Y-yes. _Fuck_ , yes.”

“Well if you’re very, very good,” she continued, “I might let you.” For a moment, she was thankful that this was proving easier than she had fretted about when she’d dreamed it up. It turned out that it was just a matter of remembering what sort of things made her feel weak-kneed, and then switching it on him. Giving him an incentive had been a stroke of genius; physical restraints last time hadn’t quite done the trick. This was _much_ better. “Wouldn’t it be fun to duck out the side of the building and fuck me in the alley?”

He was breathing deeply through his nose now, brow tightly furrowed. “Can- can I?”

“If you’d like.” She shrugged lightly as his eyes snapped up to her face. “But if we do, then we don’t use the present.” He was starting to twitch his hips lightly, bucking against her foot. With a twist of her fingers, she allowed herself to push into her own wetness a little deeper, fluttering her eyelashes and rolling her shoulders a bit. The flickering of his eyes made it clear that he was following what was happening. “I guess it’s a question of how you want me more- pressed up against a wall outside, or tied up and crying for you?”

His silent internal war was obvious and extremely gratifying.

She leaned forward again and let out the smallest and softest of groans, almost just a puff of air. “I’d like to cry for you,” she said, dreamily, smiling at him. “I want you to make me scream and beg, and then have your way with me until I’m so sore that I can’t go to class tomorrow. So won’t you be good for me?” 

There was a series of quick twitches against her foot and he suddenly hunched over the table, eyes clenched shut, teeth gritted tightly as he silently shuddered in his chair. A faint sheen of sweat had developed on the top of his lip, she saw, and when he finally stilled, he blinked slowly as he panted, a dazed look across his face.

“Well done,” she whispered, quickly withdrawing her own hand and slipping her foot back into her shoe, reaching down for her bag to slide it across the floor to him. “There’s an extra pair of pants in there, if you need to change.” 

“You…” he croaked, disbelieving, “you _planned_ this?”

“Go get cleaned up,” she said calmly, ignoring his question. “I think we’re done here. I’ll ask for the bill.”

\---

Normally, he would’ve kissed her senseless in the back of the cab on the way home.

Today, though, he sat stock-still with his fists against his knees, openly staring as her dress slowly inched up her thigh, exposing more and more leg. She would occasionally look over and smile at him, usually shifting so that the dress slid even further. It just made him remember the colour in her cheeks as she’d twitched across from him, clearly enjoying his awe, fingering herself while they were in the middle of a fucking restaurant and- oh, fuck, was any of this even happening, what had he done to deserve this?

He’d had no idea that she had such cruelty in her. It was incredible. He was hard again already, barely recovered from having come in his pants like a fucking fourteen-year old. 

Numbly, he followed her up the stairs of their apartment block and into their flat. She slid her bag onto the table and turned, that calculating look still on her face. God, that was  _so_ hot. “Take everything off,” she said, casually flicking her wrist. When he hesitated, she frowned. “Go on!”

Willingly but a bit nervously, he tugged his clothes off, letting them crumple to the floor. When he pulled his boxers down, his cock sprung up against his stomach, clearly all too ready for attention. Stupid thing always was lately.

She walked back over slowly and bent down, pressing the most delicate kiss to the tip. He groaned and tried to grab at her hair, but she quickly batted him away, giving him a warning glance.

Right. Gift. Gag. Evie in a gag. C’mon, man, focus. 

When she rose, it was with his trousers in her hands. She gradually slid the belt out from the loops and let the fabric fall back to the ground, keeping her eyes on him. “Ready to be the one using the safe words for once?”

Swallowing, he nodded. ‘Ready’ felt like an understatement.

Slowly, she looped it around his neck, pulling the leather through the clasp until it tightened slightly against his skin. “Colour?”

“Green,” he managed.

She beamed at him, eyes crinkling, and he felt a rush of pride. Yes, he could do this. Leaning forward, she gave him a long and gentle kiss, only lightly nipping at his lower lip at the very end. “Good boy,” she whispered, and the words made him shiver all over.

Holding the end of the belt like a lead, she walked to their bedroom, settling against the edge of the bed and gesturing for him to kneel. “So,” she said slowly, “so, so, so.” Scooting forward, she spread her legs, motioning him closer. “I want to come twice. And once I’ve done that, it’s your turn.” She took a deep breath. “Okay?”

He nodded and immediately reached out to spread her legs, sliding his hands under her ass to lift her-

The belt abruptly tightened and he choked, gasping as it cut off his airway.

“You didn't ask permission,” Evie purred, letting the belt go slack again. She traced her fingers along his jaw as he stared at this new beautiful and terrifying creature, cock aching unbearably. “Now it's three instead of two.”

Three times, wow, okay. Okay. He could do this. Okay. “Can I undress you?” 

"Just the knickers," she instructed, wriggling her hips up so it was easy to pull them off. As he did, he realized that her stockings were thigh-high things, bits of lace edging the top. God damn, that was hot. 

Taking a deep breath, he firmly laced his fingers behind his back and gently nudged his face between her legs. "Can I eat you out?" 

"I don't know," she said lazily, hooking a knee over his shoulder. "Would you like to?" 

He _really_ liked this side of her, he decided. "Yes. Yes, _please_. Please, let me put my mouth on your cunt."

“Vulgar," she frowned, giving the belt a quick tug. "But... yes,” she added with a happy sigh, leaning back against the bed and dragging the dress up past her waist.

He leaned in and started working on his usual pattern, licks and swirls that alternated up and down, leaning in as fully as he could. Getting her to the first orgasm was fairly easy; she was all keyed up from the restaurant, and she was wriggling and twitching in almost no time, moaning happily as he lapped against her.

Listening to her was doing crazy things to his hips, to the point where he kept trying to thrust into thin air. He drew away to lift his head, looking up at her dreamy face. “Can I touch myself? Please?”

She gave the belt another tight jerk, cutting off his breathing for another fraction of a second. Fuck, _why_ did that feel good? “No,” she murmured, clearly taking some sort of perverse joy in the denial. She nudged his shoulder with her heel. “Back to work, I think?”

His jaw was beginning to ache by the time she hit the second, the rhythmic repeating motions of his mouth not exactly easy to keep up for such a long time. Her whimpering gave him a bit more energy to keep going, but his hands kept drawing around to his sides. The temptation to grab her and have his way with her was growing by the second, his frustration creeping closer to a boiling point.

She apparently noticed. “You're so close,” she murmured, coaxing. "So close to your present. Don't you want to fuck my mouth?" 

God, yes, did he ever. Digging his nails into his palms, he drew his arms back again, taking a deep breath. He could do this. As he was about to lean in, though, he realized that she had never actually stipulated that he could only use his mouth. Hesitating, he looked up to find her frowning at him, clearly confused about the delay. “I'd like to add my hands," he said, fingers crossed behind his back. That would make this a hell of a lot easier. 

Her fist tightened in his hair as she thought about it. “All right,” she finally agreed, and he let out a quick sigh of relief. Leaning forward gently again, he just left his mouth to focus on her clit, suckling the hard nub as gently as he could. Two fingers went in ridiculously easily, to the point were he went ahead and added a third- crooking them upwards, he intensified his movements, coaxing, pulling her along, speeding as he _finally_ felt the beginnings of that flutter. She was close, and he wanted it for her, the leather still taut around his neck, his knees scratchy against the carpet-

He groaned against her skin as she finally came, arching off the bed and chanting his name, the success of it almost as intoxicating as the promise of what was to come.

When he leaned back on his heels and looked up at her, satisfaction rolling through him at his achievement, she gave him a small smile. Unlike her previous goading or sultry grins, though, it was now almost a little shy. She drew her legs up around her chest. “It's your turn now,” she said quietly.

Yes. _Yes_. He'd _done_ it, oh _fuck_ yes, and now he could have his reward. 

The thought alone was enough to get his blood pumping.

Standing, he rolled his shoulders and pulled the belt away from his neck, feeling the submissive fog drift away like the first moments of waking after a long and lovely dream. The ravenous hunger had actually subsided a little now that he had control, replaced by determination to really _enjoy_ this, make it last.

She still looked a bit shy, gazing up at him with big eyes. Her hair was a snarled mess, all of the careful styling of earlier destroyed as she'd thrashed on the mattress.

He kind of preferred it this way.

“So…” she started hesitantly. “Should I get the present?”

“Oh no,” he said evenly, offering her a hand and pulling her to her feet. “I've got things handled.”

As she stood, he reached around and unzipped the dress, letting it pool on the floor. The bra went off just as easily, but the stockings- they could definitely stay.

She was a sight, chest heaving as she looked at him with the kind of anticipation that made his heart drum in his ears. Stepping away, he quickly grabbed her sleep mask from the bedside table; drawing her close, he slid it over her eyes, letting his fingers linger a little on her cheek. Once it was in place, he led her to the middle of the room. 

She was antsy, shifting from foot to foot as he walked to the closet. “What are you doing?” 

He withdrew a box from the top drawer, where they kept all the toys. “Just getting a few things, don’t fret.”

Opening it, he pulled out a length of rope. Chewing his lip, he picked out one of the plugs that they'd been slowly working up to, grabbing the lube as well.

“Arms over your head,” he instructed, quickly binding her wrists together and slinging the rope over the hook that he normally used to string up his punching bag. “Comfy?”

“It's all right,” she said, testing the strength of it. With her arms up like that, her tits really stood to attention, and he leaned down to pepper them with a few kisses while she giggled happily. Gorgeous. 

Next, he smeared a little lube on his fingers, gently sliding them along the cleft of her ass. “Relax,” he murmured, massaging gently.

“Oh,” she murmured into the air as he pressed one finger in. “ _Oh_ ,” she repeated as he added another, slowly working her open, preparing her for the toy. 

The plug itself got another generous heaping of lube. They'd used this one a few times before, but there was still no harm in being cautious.

She let out a long, low moan that made his cock twitch in interest as he gently pushed it past the tight hole, leaving her shuddering and flexing her toes once it was in. It was so satisfying, somehow, to really lavish her with attention like this- the feeling that she was simply there to stay until he could unravel her, strand by strand. 

“This is all a bit elaborate, isn't it?” she murmured breathlessly, face delightfully pink.

“Oh, love, we’re not even done yet,” he responded, going back to retrieve the curved vibrator that they'd enjoyed so much way back when. “I've got an old favourite to add.”

Between his spit and her arousal, it slid in easily, snug and tight. She stiffened in recognition before he reached his mobile, swiping until he could crank up the settings and get it truly buzzing.

“ _Oh_ ,” she said, squirming, legs rubbing together, “you- you, that's _wicked_ -”

She had no idea. “Right,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I didn’t really get much of a dinner, so I think I’m going to go make a sandwich.”

“ _What?_ ” she squealed, now twisting back and forth against the ropes. “You can’t be serious!”

“I’ll leave the door open, you can snap to safeword out if you need to.”

Her voice was still climbing. “You _bastard_ , you get back here right this _instant_ , you- y- ah-” she broke off to shudder and let out a breathy wail as the vibrations apparently became too much, a gorgeous sound that he’d been waiting for all night. Although- it was lovely, yes, but probably a bit too loud for the neighbours. 

Going to the bed, he drew the gag out of its white box, flipping it over a few times in his hands. To think that _she_ would buy this- well, fuck, if that didn't make him shiver all over again. Walking back to her, he hooked his fingers in her mouth, sliding the metal ring into her lips and tightening the straps around her head, testing them to ensure a bit of give. She moaned, the sound now with much less force behind it. Still sexy as hell, though. 

Stepping back, he surveyed his work. She could rest comfortably on her feet but her arms were taut. She kept moving her hips, trying to get away from the unrelenting pressure, most of her face obscured by the mask and gag.

Fucking gorgeous.

Making good on his threat, he wandered to the kitchen and washed his hands, slapping some ham between slices of bread. He barely tasted the sandwich as he chewed, listening to her from the next room. She developed something of a pattern, a series of low moans that would gradually grow in pitch until they crescendoed into frantic keening from the back of her throat, rolling back down to moans again once- presumably- the climax was over. It must be nice to be a woman, he thought idly, as he listened to this happen the fourth or fifth time. Impressive.

That was probably enough, though. He dusted his hands and looked down at his erection, red and angry from neglect. Time for his fun.

\---

Oh dear _God_ he was an absolute devil and she was going to _kill_ him for this, except of course she wasn't, because she was honestly nearly out of her mind with pleasure- how could she not be? It was an overwhelming amount to be happening at once, shorting out her brain as she climbed over and over and over, the pressure unrelenting and beautiful and driving her absolutely mad with wanting. The waiting and uncertainty about when he would return only made it that much worse- or was it better- she could hardly keep track- 

She heard footsteps and she jerked around to try and face him, desperation driving the pointless movements. “Nglea-” she choked out, a half approximation of _please_ , the sound mangled by the ring. She could only imagine how she must look, drool running down her chin, cheeks streaked with tears. 

There was a warmth at her waist as he slid his hands around her, his cock nudging against the curve of her ass. Her shoulder sank as he rested his chin there, stubble sliding along her skin. “You said you wanted me to make you cry.”

Yes, yes, she did, and it was glorious- she could barely think, completely swamped by lust and a delicious sort of pain and mindless need. She moaned and rocked on the balls of her feet, swaying against him in jerking movements. “Nglea- nglea-” It was humiliating and embarrassing and she was so unbelievably past caring, her hips on fire from the endless peaks and the aching weight of the plug.

There was a creak as he quickly lifted the rope off the hook, letting her lower her arms. The ache immediately eased and she was still adjusting when there was a tug between her legs and the pressure of the vibrator was drawn away, the sudden absence an echoing relief. Her knees almost gave out but he was there to catch her when she slumped, the movement soft and tender after so much roughness. When he laid her on the bed, face-down, she relaxed happily into the downy covers; when his hands began to firmly trace small circles into her shoulders, massaging the soreness away, she almost thought she might start crying again.

“Better?” He murmured, and she nodded into the mattress, still not able to speak around the gag. He rolled her over onto her back and pulled the eye mask off as well, sliding it slowly, gently making sure that it didn't get caught in her tangled hair. Suddenly she could see, blinking up at his handsome face. He was smiling- oh, such a wicked smile- and her heart sped up again, thumping in her chest.

Drawing up her legs, he lowered his fingers until he could trace the nub of the plug, giving a little push. “I want this to stay,” he said. “Snap if you can’t handle it.” She left her fingers limp, calm and still; she could hardly let this end now, not when she was drowning so willingly. “Such a good girl,” he crooned, pressing kisses along the side of her face, pulling her so her neck was a bit propped up against the pillows at the top of the bed. With a blink, her brain slowly caught up to what was happening as he climbed up to straddle her shoulders. “Such a good, good girl for me.” It was time to go through with her promise. 

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to remember to breathe in through her nose as he pushed into her mouth, sliding past the ring lodged in her lips. He grunted over her as he bucked, letting out a low moan as she gagged around him, trying to relax as he nudged the back of her throat with the occasional thrust. Her bound hands were still over her head and she blindly wrapped them around the bars at the head of the bed, her knuckles getting a bit bruised as they knocked against the wall with each rattling shove of his hips. 

It was much sloppier than usual, much less refined; she couldn't really move her head or tongue, so she couldn't help but think that a lot of the sensation would be a bit dulled. But when she peeked her eyes open and saw the way he was looking at her, hungry and rapt, she got the distinct feeling that it wasn't really about the sensation. From the flaring of arousal in her own hips, thudding with the rather overwhelming sensation of being so fully _dominated_ , she was pretty sure she understood. It was about the display, and she was so utterly glad that she'd picked this gift. 

With a groan that almost sounded disappointed, he abruptly pulled away, clearly determined to move on to whatever was coming next. Arching her neck, she rasped cool air into her sore throat, waiting for the burning to ease. When he reached around her head and worked the gag off, gently opening her mouth a little wider so he could pull it away, it was impossible not to whimper with relief.

He set it aside while she worked her jaw to ease some of the stiffness. “Thank you,” she whispered into the air, glowing in the warm smile he gave her in return. His hands were firm on her hips when he dragged her back to the edge of the bed, lifting her ankles to hook them over her shoulders, his intention absolutely clear.

She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could just _feel_ as she waited, the moment suspended like fragile glass. When he snapped his hips and pushed into her, she was so full _everywhere_ and it was so _much_ and so _good_ and oh, oh God-

She was saying something, she knew, his name and expletives and breathless noises that were barely words, the sounds pushed out of her with each crest of pleasure.  

“Such a fucking tease,” he growled over her babbling, gripping her waist and pounding her down to meet him with fierce strokes. “Do you tease all the boys like you torment me?”

Never, never, he was her _world_ , didn't he know? But all she could manage was a moaned out “no,” a long and pathetic sound. When she reached up to try and touch his face with her bound hands, he immediately shoved them back onto mattress, forbidding it.

“Dirty little whores don't get to touch,” he hissed, and the words cracked through her spine like electricity, setting her nerves all alight.

“I'm not,” she said weakly, through her panting, trying to argue. “I'm not-”

“ _Good_ girls,” he said, relentless as he suddenly shifted his angle, deeper and fuller and oh God she kept clenching around the plug, “don't fucking finger themselves under a table in a fucking nice restaurant, and they sure as fuck don't know how to get a man off with their _feet_.”

The breath was shoved from her lungs when he abruptly drew away and rolled her over onto her stomach, pulling her hips up. She moaned when he pushed in again, the new angle so very satisfying and lovely, but it broke off into a gasp when she felt his fingers press against the plug.

“Bu-” she choked out, “no, uh, no-”

Not that it meant anything, of course. ‘Red’ meant ‘no’ and anything else was basically a suggestion at this point.

Her brain whited out as he started to rock the plug back and forth a little, in time with his thrusts, alternating and somehow fucking her two ways at once. “What,” he said, “you don't like this?”

“I- uh- whu-,” she managed, “I-”

“I thought you'd love it- it's just like taking two cocks, and wouldn't you love that, slut that you are?”

Good god that wasn't _fair_ and she couldn't argue, sobbing at the overwhelming fullness of it, the way that his words made her mind go so blissfully blank. She was hanging onto the bed covers for dear life, tucking her head down to grit some of the fabric between her teeth- she shouldn't wake the whole _building_ -

“Not that you'll ever actually get to experience that,” he added. His voice was getting ragged, the way it always did when he got close, his thrusts getting erratic. “You're _mine_ , all of you, tight cunt and ass included.”

“It's so much,” she rasped, raising her head and trying to rock back to meet him because it felt so good- it always felt so, so damned good- and she started to chant faster as his last thrusts became unbearably rough, words tumbling out of her all at once. “It's so much Jacob it's so much it's too much it's _too much it's too MUCH_ -”

He actually let out a strangled yell as he dug his fingers into her hips and came, officially a first as far as she could remember. To her surprise, he pulled out after the first thrust; she gasped as she felt the warm liquid fall across her hips and back, slithering in slow trails across her skin.

With a low groan, he braced himself over her long enough to gently, slowly, work the plug out, tossing it aside to be cleaned later. In a dramatic flop, he twisted over to land next to her, bedsprings squeaking as he sank into the mattress. Waving her hands over, he unpicked the knots at her wrists, pressing little kisses to the red marks left behind. 

“You made a mess,” she complained, casting a look over her shoulder, feeling the tacky liquid drying against her skin.  

“Sorry,” he murmured. “You just look so fucking hot when I do that. Always think about it for days.”

It would be a lie if she wasn't a bit mollified by that. She reached out and swept a bit of his hair out of his eyes. “Oh well. I suppose it _is_ your birthday.”

“I did actually get you a present, by the way,” he mumbled into the air, still apparently riding that glorious post-orgasm high. “I didn’t forget.”

“Yeah?” She propped herself on her elbows. “Can I have it?”

“It’s not really a tangible thing,” he said. “You know that author you really like? The- the murder ones, the ones you keep leaving on the loo all the time, with the covers that always have weird old looking things on them.”

It was a strange and utterly Jacob way of categorizing something. “Yes?”

“He’s coming to Edinburgh next month. I paid for you to have a place at his Q&A session about his next book. You can get an autograph or whatever.”

For once, she didn't have a retort. It was so very, very sweet and thoughtful, the kind of thing she wouldn't have even thought of herself, and since when did he do that sort of thing?

He shifted. “Is everything oka-”

“All right,” she managed, “who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

“What?”

“That… Is… So unbelievably thoughtful.”

He relaxed back with a chuckle. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty fucking great.”

“You are,” she agreed, wriggling forward to press her nose to his shoulder. Because he was, as it turned out, her strange and beautiful other half. “Happy birthday, stupid.”

“Happy birthday,” he murmured back.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, she tried to preserve the moment in her mind like a fragile insect trapped in amber, frozen in time so she could look back on it always and remember it as it was: perfect and special and rare.

\---

Delivery driving wasn’t too bad as far as jobs went. Even so, Jacob always had half an eye out for something else. He’d basically taken the first thing he could find when they arrived- strapped for cash and with setting-up expenses, neither of them really had any choice but to grab what was available- but something a bit steadier would be nice for the long term.

He was most of the way through one of his rounds when he spotted the flier, stapled to the side of a seedy looking building.

_Seeking bartender/security for nightclub, no experience necessary, call 0131 35567_

Squinting at it thoughtfully, he noted down the number on his mobile. He could definitely knock heads together for a living, and it would probably be less boring that what he was currently doing.

When he called and explained about his boxing experience, he was invited for an interview. He had to double check the address when he arrived, because the location he was given seemed to still be a construction site. Poking his head around the scaffolding, he saw two men standing in the middle of the open space and talking over some blueprints, the taller man gesticulating wildly while the shorter one nodded along.

“Hello?” he called out, a bit hesitantly, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. “I was called here for an interview?”

“Yes,” the shorter one immediately said, voice crisp and professional, London accent oddly out of place after months of only hearing Scottish brogues. “For the bartending and security position, correct? I have something of an office if you’ll come this way-”

The taller one waved his arm dismissively. “I can do this, don’t worry about it.”

The shorter one looked a bit taken aback, but he obediently shrugged and went back to staring at the blueprints.

The taller one started walking away and Jacob followed along, ducking past debris until they came to a space with a desk. “So, uh, are you the boss?”

“Owner,” he corrected, “of this and a few other places. Drink?”

Jacob blinked. It was ten in the morning. “Sure, I guess.”

Sitting across from the desk, Jacob sipped at the bitter liquid. The owner had a long scar that slid along the side of his face, puckering the cheek below his left eye. Whatever had caused that, it had no doubt hurt like hell.

“Right,” the owner said, “so, security.”

“Yes.” Jacob slumped a bit in the chair, never quite able to keep up the formal decorum that Father would’ve no doubt encouraged in an interview. “I’ve been in four regional boxing championships-”

“You’re hired,” the owner interrupted him.

“-and I placed- wait, what?”

The owner was already standing, nodding thoughtfully. “You’ll be a good fit. I’ll have this place up and running by New Year at the latest, and we’ll give you a call. What did you say your name was?” He stretched his hand out, offering it over the desk.

“Jacob.” Jacob took the hand and gave it a firm shake, noting how the owner’s gaze roved up and down as he stood. “Jacob Frye.”

“Jacob,” he repeated, sounding pleased. “Pleasure. You can call me Roth.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? -sniffs the air- Do I smell... A SEQUEL? A sequel with a sneak peek that will very soon be posted as chapter 21??? 
> 
> But first, I need to make something very clear. This fic got as long as it did because of all of the wonderful and kind feedback that I received, both here and [**on Tumblr**](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/poethrotsvitha). The sequel (which I hope you'll all follow me to) exists _because of your comments_. Basically, if you are one of the lovely, lovely people who reached out to me, YOU made this happen! Pat yourself on the back. You've contributed to even more of this filth being sent off into the great sinkhole that is AO3. 
> 
> And if you haven't made yourself known or you find that too stressful, know that I'm grateful for your readership too. (￣▽￣)ノ Please join me in the next angst-ridden installment of this nonsense. 
> 
> HELL AWAITS! -gallops off into the distance-


	21. I Want Some More: Sneak Peek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little snippet of what's to come...

It seemed to take forever to get up the stairs. Jacob just wanted to be home, to be able to flop on the sofa and watch some telly, to forget about his long day.

Overseeing the delivery of alcohol shouldn’t be that fucking difficult, but the Alhambra really seemed to have a knack for hiring absolute wankers. Chasing down a missing shipment had taken most of the afternoon, and he had only got to the end of that rabbit hole to discover that some of the morons had drunk the stock and assumed that no one would notice.

It was the sort of stupid plan that he might've approved of, once upon a time.

When he got through the door of the flat, he could see that an extra pair of shoes were by the door, big leather brogues that were polished to a shine. “Roth?” he called out, sliding his coat off and tossing it on a chair.

“My dear.” Roth poked his head out from around the kitchen. “You’re quite late, so I went ahead and started cooking.” He was wearing one of the dumb ‘Kiss The Cook’ aprons that he kept insisting on buying for Christmases, and the smell of something spicy was heavy in the air.

“Yeah, well, delays on the Circle Line, I had to take a detour. What is that?” Jacob asked, walking over to sniff at the pot.

“Lentil curry,” Roth said, pulling Jacob close and pressing a long kiss to his cheek.

Jacob leaned into the kiss and twisted his mouth at the food. “That sounds… Disgusting.”

“You are uncultured swine,” Roth snapped, batting a hand at Jacob’s ass and shooing him out of the kitchen. “My considerable talents are wasted on you.”

He grabbed a beer on the way out, cracking it open as he walked. Back in the living room, Jacob relaxed into the sofa, closing his eyes with a long sigh. Tugging his mobile out of his pocket, he was about to toss it aside when he saw the notifications.

_[(1) missed call- unknown number]  
[(1) new voicemail- unknown number]_

Frowning, he dialled to access the message, putting the mobile to his ear while he reached for the remote.

What he heard made his heart nearly stop.

_“Hello, Jacob. It's your Mother.”_

He hadn't heard that voice in- God, how long had it been- almost 8, 9 years? Not since the day when he and-

No. No, _no_ , he had devoted enough energy to keeping those memories locked tightly away, and he didn't want to dredge them up now. Or ever. Even a casual brush against that part of his brain made it hard to breathe.

Don’t think about her.

Because if he did, there was the worrying possibility that even if he _tried_ to remember, he wouldn’t be able to. There was a time when every inch of her face had been carved into his mind like marble, fixed to the point where he could summon it without any effort. But now, it was abstract, more the sensation of ghosting touches and a vague feeling of contentment instead of anything sharp and clear.

And that- that knowledge hurt most of all.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he missed the rest of the message, only snapping back to the present when the tinny female voice asked him to _press 1 if you wish to hear this message again._

Shaking his head to try and clear it, he replayed the voicemail.

_"Hello, Jacob. It's your Mother.  
_

_I know that we haven't spoken in a long time, but I hope you will listen to this message.  
_

_Your Father was diagnosed with terminal stage lung cancer and things have been going poorly for a while. The doctors now say he has maybe a week or two left. We would like you to come down and see us._

_He wants to say goodbye.”_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMING SOON: The world's most awkward family reunion. 
> 
> Now seems like a good time to remind everyone that no matter how bleak things look- and no matter how bumpy the ride- the guy always gets the girl (and vice versa) in my fics. ;) 
> 
> I've set up a series to house these works, so head over and subscribe to _Very Good Bad Things_ if you want to be alerted when the first chapter of _I Want Some More_ goes up!
> 
> P.S. I wrote 54,000 words of this garbage in less than a month and NaNoWriMo can kiss my ASS


	22. FAN ART - Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE I drew a thing for this

Ayyy have some cuddly modern twins goofing around

NOM HIS FACE EVIE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [**I made a tumblr for my scribbles**](https://thepoetdraws.tumblr.com/) because I got a Wacom and I'm SO THRILLED WITH IT


End file.
